


Everything

by ForForever19



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Doctor AU, F/F, Faberry Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 64,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28577424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForForever19/pseuds/ForForever19
Summary: 'Rachel can't help that her eyes are automatically drawn to the woman when she enters the Emergency Room through the hospital's entrance, the sliding doors opening to reveal her in all her dark blue scrubs and white coat glory. She's addressing a pair of residents, who are both looking at her as if she hangs the moon.' OR Doctor AU.
Relationships: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray
Comments: 132
Kudos: 391





	1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** : I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Glee Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**AN** : I really just wanted to write about them being surgeons, and this is what emerged. I have kind of an idea where it's all going, but I'm as much on this ride as everyone else is. Hope you're all well.

* * *

**I**

"Who is that?"

Blaine Anderson looks up from the medical chart he's currently reading, brow creased at the sound of Rachel Berry's question. "Who's who?"

Rachel gestures across the Emergency Room with her head, indicating to a blonde teenager sitting behind the nurse's station and chatting rather amicably with Mercedes and Sam.

Blaine blinks a number of times. "Oh, that's Beth," he says.

"Who is Beth?" Rachel presses, convinced she's going to have to pull teeth to get some kind of useful answer from the trauma surgeon.

Blaine frowns at her. "Don't you know who Beth is?"

Rachel would roll her eyes, but she's trying to be a professional. "Obviously not," she says. "That's why I'm asking you."

"Huh," he muses. "Weird. I could have sworn Quinn would have told you."

Rachel stiffens at the mention of the blonde's name, and her reaction is visible enough that Blaine winces, internally berating himself for making it awkward.

"Um."

Rachel waves a hand. "It's okay," she dismisses, but it clearly isn't. Quinn Fabray is a... touchy subject, and Blaine should know better than to bring up the woman. Least of all in front of Rachel.

Huh.

Speak of the devil.

Rachel can't help that her eyes are automatically drawn to the woman when she enters the Emergency Room through the hospital's entrance, the sliding doors opening to reveal her in all her dark blue scrubs and white coat glory. She's addressing a pair of residents, who are both looking at her as if she hangs the moon.

The worst part is that Quinn obviously knows it, and she loves it, if the slight smirk on her face is anything to go on. Still, her eyes take in the large room, briefly pausing on Rachel, who doesn't bother to hide the fact she's watching her - before finally settling on the nurses' station.

Rachel watches, a little transfixed, as Quinn sends off the residents with her to do some task as she approaches the station, her smirk transforming into something genuine. It's a look Rachel has seen only once before, and seeing it now is jarring.

A throat clears behind her, and she turns to see Blaine eyeing her curiously. "Staring is rude, you know," he comments.

Rachel rolls her eyes, but it's enough to get her to keep her eyes off Quinn. Her chest is already filled with an abundance of confusing emotions to last a lifetime, and she doesn't have the time to dwell, either way.

Rachel clears her own throat, and then asks, "So, what do you think?" about the file Blaine is still reading through. "It's what I think it is, isn't it?"

Blaine nods, sombre. "You already know that, though," he points out. "So, what did you need to come to me for?"

Rachel presses her lips together. "The procedure I want to do," she starts, but she needn't continue, because Blaine seems to get it immediately.

"Oh," he says. "Quinn's procedure."

"You're the only one she's actually trained to do it in this hospital," Rachel points out.

"Are you asking _me_ to do it, or are you asking me to ask _her_ to do it?" he asks, and Rachel can't bring herself to answer. Because she doesn't know what she wants, and she doesn't know if Quinn would even say yes if Blaine asked.

She definitely wouldn't if _she_ asked.

But that would require them to be talking to each other, and they've somehow managed to get through the past three months without that happening. It helps that they rarely have to work together, Quinn's specialties found elsewhere. She's something of a niche acquisition, arriving post-dual-fellowship, and basically ruining Rachel's life.

And, it isn't said unkindly - even if it initially was - but Quinn has been a thorn in her side since she first stepped into New Budapest Hospital just six months ago. She arrived in the middle of a mass trauma, easily slipping into the hierarchy and lending hands whenever she was needed.

Until she encountered Rachel, who was having her own off day, stressed out beyond belief about an ex-husband, an ex-boyfriend and an ex-mother. At the time, the last thing she needed was a cocky trauma surgeon insulting her technique, and then immediately hitting on her in her next breath.

It was a bad day to hit on Rachel Berry, and the idiotic woman just found it amusing. _A challenge_ , she called it, and Rachel made the mistake or reacting in some way.

The biggest mistake.

Well, okay, the biggest mistake Rachel actually came just two months and two weeks after their initial meeting, when she did the unthinkable and gave in.

To the sex.

Which was great.

Mind-blowing, really.

Earth-shattering, though Rachel would never - even on her death bed - admit that to anyone, least of all to Quinn. It was the best sex of her life, hot and heavy and dirty, and she still flushes just thinking about it.

Thirteen days of sneaking kisses and touches, making out in empty corridors and getting off in locked on-call rooms. Just thirteen days of enduring Quinn's smug, unrepentant expression, knowing she'd given in to the woman who'd already slept through their sapphically-inclined residents.

Just thirteen days... for it all to fall apart.

Now, Rachel doesn't think they would ever have actually become something. Quinn isn't the type of woman Rachel would have considered settling down with, given her general attitude to life and relationships, but even Rachel didn't think it would end so spectacularly.

And publicly.

Disastrously. Horribly. Just, every awful adverb that exists.

Blaine taps her shoulder, jolting her from her memories and bringing her right back to reality. She audibly swallows, ignoring the concern in his eyes. The problem with having such a public affair is that everyone already thinks they know what happened... and the worst part is that they do.

Nothing has been secret. It played out right in front of everyone. Two and a half months of heavy flirting and public foreplay, thirteen days of debauchery, and then the ending to mark all endings.

A rash decision, a bold choice, a risky surgery and an unnecessary death.

"It's fine," Rachel tells him. "I'll talk to her."

Blaine's brow creases with worry. "Do you think that's a good idea?" he asks.

"I told you I'm fine," she reiterates.

Blaine's frown deepens. "It's not you I'm worried about," he murmurs.

"What?"

But, before he can explain what he means, they're interrupted by Marley, who has a tablet in her hand and a hopeful look on her face, eyes focused on Rachel.

Rachel resists her desire to sigh, trying to remember what she was like when she was still a resident like Marley. She was still so eager to learn, and she knows she's going to have to reignite her desire to teach if she plans to be at all useful.

Holding out a hand, she silently asks for the tablet. "What do you need, Dr Rose?"

* * *

"Seriously," Rachel says, more to herself; "who is that?"

"Hmm?"

Rachel glances at Jesse, almost forgetting he's sitting with her, since he's been fiddling with his phone since they arrived at the hospital's cafeteria. They definitely get along better now than they ever did as a married couple, but she still finds his lack of attention irritating. It's always as if he's somewhere else.

"That girl," Rachel says. "Sitting with Sam and Q-Quinn."

Jesse perks up at the sound of that, his smile more of a smirk. "Why do you care?" he asks, and she bristles at whatever his tone might be implying.

"I don't," she immediately says, frowning. "I'm just curious."

"Uh huh," he says, clearly not believing her. "And, that's Beth."

Rachel resists the urge to groan. Or growl. "But, who _is_ she?"

Jesse eyes her, his gaze searching. "God, do you really not know?" he asks. "How do you not know?" He frowns. "Quinn spent two and a half months chasing you, Rachel. She must have told you about Beth."

Rachel is aware she's missing something, but she can't quite figure out what. It's right there, but she doesn't have the chance to question him further, because Sam is suddenly standing over their table, eyes on only Jesse.

Not that Rachel blames him. He's obviously chosen Quinn in this whole mess.

"Dr St James," Sam says. "Might I have a word?"

Rachel can't quite explain what happens to Jesse's face, because she's convinced she's reading it wrong. That is not... arousal. It can't be.

Wait.

Jesse gets to his feet after a slight hesitation, says something to Rachel she doesn't quite catch, and then they're both gone. Rachel watches them walk away, eyes trained on their backs, as if they're going to give her answers to questions she hasn't even yet formulated.

Her gaze eventually drifts back to Quinn, surprised to find her sitting alone as she continues eating her salad. Rachel's eyes search for Beth, spotting her back in the cafeteria line, visibly contemplating what more to get.

Rachel thinks it's as good a time as any to approach Quinn about possibly doing the procedure Rachel needs done. It's nothing truly fancy, but the equipment used is under Quinn's patent, and why not go straight to the source?

Steeling herself, Rachel gets to her feet. She pauses long enough to gather her trash, quickly disposing of it, and then makes her way towards where Quinn is sitting.

It's really only when she's standing in front of the woman that she realises this probably should have been done in a more private setting. Nurses and technicians and doctors scattered around the cafeteria are obviously trying not to watch the interaction, eager for more gossip, but it's too late to turn around now. She's here, and Quinn is looking at her expectantly, if not guardedly.

The guarded look is new, recent in a way that Rachel barely recognises her when it's directed at her.

"Dr Fabray," Rachel says, ever polite. "Sorry to bother you during your lunch, but I have this patient," she starts, and something in Quinn's gaze shifts. She switches from Quinn to Dr Fabray, and Rachel won't admit just how relieved she is as she explains just what she needs from the woman who has done exactly as requested and left her alone for twelve weeks.

Quinn listens patiently, and then nods once, smiling at something over Rachel's shoulder. Beth, apparently, who approaches a little hesitantly behind Rachel.

Quinn looks back at Rachel once Beth has resumed her seat, eyeing her apprehensively. "I can do it," Quinn tells Rachel, which is surprising. Rachel expected to have to do more convincing. "When are you planning to perform the procedure?"

Rachel blinks. "Oh, um, I still have to schedule it," she says. "But, probably some time tomorrow."

"Okay," Quinn says. "Just let me know." And then she looks away, breathing evenly, and Rachel wonders if the conversation has taken as much out of her as it has Rachel.

Rachel just nods, dismissing herself and walking away, just as Beth asks, "Who is that?"

She doesn't linger to hear Quinn's reply.

* * *

Rachel isn't usually one for experimental methods when children are involved, but she's suddenly very on board with every possible clinical trial on offer when it comes to her patient, Henry Garcia.

She isn't one for picking favourites, but he's definitely her favourite.

He's tiny for a six-year-old, with wide, brown eyes that make it very difficult for Rachel to be anything other than severely affected after every visit she makes to his room.

She makes a point to visit him, even after her Rounds, just for the pleasure of spending time with him. He has the most adorable, toothless smile, and it lifts her mood just to see him, even if it simultaneously breaks her heart.

The visits usually aren't long, given his low energy and her busy schedule. It's just that her day doesn't go as well when she doesn't see him, so she makes sure not to risk it. She has a lot to get through, and she needs all the good vibes she can get.

It's when she's leaving the Ward that she sees her. Rachel usually passes by the playroom, just to soak up a bit more joy, and today is no different.

Only.

That's when she spots Beth sitting on a stool, tiny human beings huddled around her as she reads a story from a book in her lap. Her voice is soothing, lilting and inflecting as she switches voices to match whoever is speaking and gets excited giggles from the kids.

Rachel doesn't even know why she's so intrigued by this girl. It's probably in relation to Quinn and how everyone else seems to know this teenager, but Rachel can't help it. She's curious.

Rachel stands in the doorway and watches, unsure how she feels. She knows Quinn used to come in here all the time, keen to visit the kids, just to play and read with them.

And then she stopped. When Rachel asked her to.

Because this is Rachel's domain. Her place, and Quinn is 'respectful' enough to give her at least that much. So... where does Beth fit in? Who is she?

Rachel startles a little when Beth suddenly stops talking, her attention on a girl who's just started to cry. Anna. Rachel moves to step forward, but Beth slides off her stool and settles right in front of the little girl.

Rachel freezes in place, watching as Beth whispers to Anna, voice so quiet that Rachel can't hear a word. It's for the best, she thinks. Anna calms considerably, and Beth even moves her shirt collar to the side to reveal a scar on the skin just below her collarbone.

A port scar.

She's smiling, and so is Anna, and Rachel feels a little sucker-punched, because this Beth must be a patient. Of course, she's a patient. Who else would she be?

It's the moment Beth glances up, spotting her in the doorway. Her smile slips a little, looking worried that she's somehow misstepped, but Rachel just manages a smile to reassure her.

Beth breathes out in relief, and the smile she offers in reply looks just a bit too familiar.

* * *

Sam schedules Rachel's procedure for the following day, his eyebrows scrunching together when she mentions that Quinn will be taking lead.

He blinks once, twice, and then asks, "And you'll be assisting?"

Rachel feels a flare of irritation, but she just asks, "Is that a hickey on your neck?" rather pointedly, and the chief resident doesn't make further comment as he makes a note of the surgery.

* * *

Before, Rachel enjoyed the fact she and Quinn managed to sync their schedules well enough that they could leave the hospital at the same time. Before, she enjoyed the banter in the Attending Lounge and parking lot, pretending every word Quinn said grated on her nerves.

Well, at first she didn't have to pretend. Quinn was - _is_ \- an arrogant asshole. Pretty much the definition of an egotistical jerk, and she's flirty and condescending, and she managed to get it into her head that Rachel was possibly interested in her. In any way.

Rachel hates to admit that the attempts to flirt with her became less annoying and more amusing, mainly because she learned Quinn found herself equally as sensational with all the words that left her mouth.

Rachel admits to being dismissive, caught between enjoying the attention and rebuffing the surgeon completely. Given her situation with -

Well.

It doesn't matter now.

What does matter is that she's walking behind Quinn and Beth as they also leave the hospital. The foyer is large enough that her footsteps go unnoticed, and she feels a little creepy following behind them, already knowing they're headed in the direction of the same subway station.

It would be cowardly to turn around and leave after a few minutes, and Rachel has already done enough cowardly things in the past few months. She doesn't have enough fingers and toes to count them.

Rachel hears Beth say, "Five bucks says I can convince you to make pancakes for dinner," which earns a laugh from Quinn that hits Rachel square in the chest. Rachel's heard that laugh a handful of times, but not nearly as many times as she once wished.

Still wishes, sometimes, but she's still angry enough to ignore that desire.

"That's practically a bribe," Quinn says in return, and Rachel has so missed the sound of her voice when she's not in doctor-mode. It's softer, less abrupt. But it's also different to how _Quinn_ sounds, as if she's reserved this tone of voice for only Beth.

"Pancakes, Quinn," Beth says. "Don't tell me you don't want some."

"If I had everything I wanted..." Quinn says, her voice trailing off as she grows sombre. Rachel feels her heart skip a beat at the turn in her voice, and she watches as Beth skips a few steps and throws an arm over Quinn's shoulders.

And then she says, "Oh, come on, we both know I think you're the cooler mom," and Rachel can't possibly contain the gasp that leaves her mouth.

It's audible enough that both blondes abruptly stop walking, and Quinn turns to look at her. The expression on her face is something Rachel has never seen, because Quinn has never looked at her like that. It is hard and cold, and there is something deeply hurt there that Rachel almost wants to cross the space between them and touch her.

Quinn waves Beth on and says, "Beth, honey, I'm right behind you."

Beth looks unsurely between them for a moment, and then turns and puts some distance between herself and the two women.

Quinn waits until Beth is out of earshot to give Rachel that same guarded look, eyes asking a question Rachel won't bother to answer. _She_ hasn't done anything wrong.

When Rachel doesn't say anything, Quinn puffs out an annoyed breath. "See you for the procedure tomorrow, Dr Berry," she says, and then starts to turn away.

"You have a daughter?" Rachel suddenly blurts, wincing at the sound of her own voice.

Quinn halts, but doesn't look back. All she says is, "Not as heartless as you think, huh?" and then keeps walking.

 _No_ , Rachel supposes, _not at all_.

* * *

Rachel contemplates calling her father when she gets back to her apartment, wondering if she can spin some tale to get some information on Quinn. As the Chief of Surgery, he was responsible for her hiring, which means he must know more about her story.

If Quinn really does have a daughter, how is it possible that Rachel doesn't know? Rachel won't admit it, but she's scoured Quinn's social media, and she can't remember finding anything on a child.

And, frankly, Beth looks old enough to be at least sixteen, maybe seventeen. Quinn can't possibly be her actual mother. Surely. That would mean -

Well.

Rachel isn't going to judge.

It's just a thought, and merely the idea of Quinn being an actual mother shifts Rachel's last conversation - on that final day, when she asked Quinn just to leave her alone - into some kind of painful perspective.

Rachel has felt guilty about it a handful of times - usually when she's sad and a little drunk on wine - but never enough to do something about it. To apologise, or tell Quinn she's forgiven. Because Rachel hasn't forgiven her, and she can't foresee a day she actually does.

Although, what there is to forgive... well, even Rachel wouldn't be able to tell you.

That day - that last day, when Quinn's face crumpled into the passive one she now wears around Rachel - is all a bit of a blur. It happened so quickly and so slowly at the same time, and Rachel doesn't think her heart has actually managed to catch up to what it's been through in the last few months.

With a sigh, Rachel pours herself a generous glass of wine and settles in front of her television with some leftovers to watch some mind-numbing television. Her heart aches with something like regret and longing, and it takes one peek at her phone to know why.

Jesse mentioned that Quinn 'chased' her for two and a half months, and Rachel might have scoffed at the terminology, but she knows the truth of it. She might have been an asshole the entire time, but Quinn was so present in Rachel's phone for those few weeks that the radio silence has been deafening.

Quinn is gone.

But so is Finn.

And Rachel will never forgive Quinn for that.

* * *

Quinn is already scrubbed in and ready to go by the time Rachel arrives at the operating room. The woman is casually talking to the anaesthetist, Dr Robyn Hendricks, and their patient, Henry. Rachel can't see behind her mask, but she's sure Quinn is smiling.

And both Robyn and Henry are looking at her as if she's revealing secrets of the universe. She probably is, for all Rachel knows, and she wonders if she ever looked at Quinn that way.

When Quinn notices her arrival, her expression shifts, but not enough that little Henry would notice. Robyn does, though, and Rachel is awarded with something that resembles a glare. She frowns slightly, because she was sure Robyn at least didn't hate her.

Well.

"All set?" Quinn asks the room, though it's clearly directed at Rachel.

Henry answers with a tired, but enthusiastic, "Yes," and it's enough to get the entire room moving into position.

Now, Rachel knows about Quinn's OR routines. She has all these little quirks about her - whether they're superstitions or some kind of compulsions, she doesn't know - so she's surprised when Quinn does none of them. She just smiles at Henry, and then allows Robyn to do her work.

Rachel hasn't even discussed Henry with Quinn, but she learned from Marley that Quinn requested files on his case the previous evening. Quinn is definitely up to speed, and Rachel isn't really worried.

Just, the fact Quinn doesn't do her normal preparations makes her nervous. What if something goes wrong? Why isn't Quinn humming or doing that ridiculous spinning thing she does before she starts? Why doesn't she address everyone in the room the way she normally does? Why isn't she -

It takes Rachel far too long to figure it's because _she's_ in the room.

Quinn is very much Dr Fabray in the moment. As she was when she emerged from that OR that fateful day, her expression unreadable and her demeanour giving nothing away.

As soon as Henry is knocked out and comfortable, Quinn begins, her facial expression falling into something severe. The concentration in her features has always been the sexiest thing about her: the narrowing of her eyes, the firm set of her mouth, the tightness of her jaw and the crease in her forehead. It all just adds to her appeal, and it's really the first time Rachel notices just how many of the other men and women in the room watch her.

Oh.

That's what Robyn's glare was about. Rachel wonders if Quinn and Robyn are involved for exactly zero-point-six seconds before she scraps that thought, because she doesn't care.

She doesn't.

The rest of the procedure goes smoothly, Quinn quiet for most of it, beyond teasing a nurse about her _Superman_ scrub cap. The entire thing is quick, Rachel reacting to Quinn's verbal and non-verbal cues. Henry will experience some discomfort for a few days, but even Rachel has to admit that Quinn is a brilliant surgeon.

She's very good with her hands.

Rachel has never been more relieved she's wearing a mask to hide her blush than in that moment, because that's the last thing she should be thinking about. Henry is literally lying on the operating table in front of them.

Between them.

It really is best when there's some kind of physical barrier between the two of them. The draw to Quinn is sometimes magnetic, and Rachel knew, even back then, she was fighting a losing battle. Despite her heart and head wanting nothing to do with the woman, her body misses her.

"That should do it," Quinn finally says, eyeing her handiwork rather critically. She's a bit of a perfectionist, Rachel has learned, and she takes every procedure very personally.

It's the complete opposite to the persona she projects outside of the operating room.

"Is there anything else you need from me?" Quinn asks, directing the question straight at Rachel. It's the first conversation she's really initiated in so long, and Rachel wonders if the question could apply to something else.

_Everything else._

Still, Rachel shakes her head. "I can take it from here," she says.

Quinn nods once, and then steps away from Henry. She thanks the people around her, spares a wink in Robyn's direction, and then starts to leave.

"Quinn?" Rachel's mouth says before she can stop it.

She turns, pausing in her motion of removing her protective equipment.

"I - uh," Rachel starts, stutters. "Thank you."

Quinn doesn't react for a moment, but then she tips her head once more, and then leaves the operating room without another word.

Rachel's eyes linger on the space she's just vacated until the sound of a throat clearing snaps her back to reality.

She's fine.

She is.

* * *

Rachel doesn't expect to find Beth reading to the children in the Paediatric Ward again, but it's still unsurprising that she does. If Beth was one of these kids for any chunk of time, then she should know how it feels to be stuck in the hospital while the rest of the kids get to be outside and experience the world.

Anything new and exciting is welcomed, and Beth is one of those things.

Rachel looks in for a moment, and then goes to check on her patients. She reads up on latest vitals and spends precious minutes making sure her patients - and their parents - know she's doing everything she can to keep them healthy and happy.

She doesn't always win. In fact, lately, she's had more losses than she's ever had in her career, and it strikes her that her entire world tilted right over something like three months ago.

When Quinn -

And -

It doesn't even matter. They're thoughts she has when she has way too much to drink, anyway, and when she's feeling sorry for herself. She knows everyone in this damn hospital knows what happened, and she also knows that far too many of them probably side with Quinn in this whole mess, but she's the Chief's daughter, and nobody would ever say anything to her face.

Except Santana Lopez, but that's an entire other story, for another day.

Once she's done her rounds, Rachel stops off at the nurses' station to order some scans for Henry, a few blood tests for Will, and a different set of antibiotics for Ellie.

It's there, in that moment, that she speaks to Beth for the first time. She's just finished up with her paperwork when she senses someone approaching, and she turns her head to spot the teenager, who's wearing a disarming smile.

"So, _you're_ Dr Rachel," Beth says, moving to stand beside Rachel at the nurses' station.

Rachel can't think of a suitable response beyond, "You've heard of me?"

Beth almost rolls her eyes. "Little Jenna won't shut up about you," she says, which Rachel doesn't expect. She's sure Quinn must have had plenty to tell her, given the way the two women left things. "And Byron said you have the voice of an angel."

"He's biased," Rachel deflects. "I give him the good drugs."

Beth smiles then, more of a grin, and Rachel sees Quinn in her for the first time that she can actually recognise. "I sometimes miss the good drugs," she admits with an exaggerated sigh.

Rachel wants to ask, but she doesn't think it's her place.

Beth must be able to read her curiosity in her expression because she decides to elaborate on her own. "I had a tumour on my spine," she explains. "Mom says it was the size of a tennis ball, and I still hate that they didn't let me keep it when they took it out. I named it Spike."

Rachel lets out an unexpected laugh, because this kid isn't what she anticipated.

"The chemo was rough," Beth says, pulling a face. "Mom was a wreck most of the time, but Quinn was - she held it together so well. She came to every session she could, and she used to read to me for hours and hours. Sometimes, it was even her own work."

Because, yeah, Quinn once mentioned that she writes as something of a hobby. Rachel _knows_ that.

"She told me I'm the reason she even decided to pursue Medicine, at all." Beth rolls her eyes. "Told me she wanted to save all the other little kids like me."

Rachel feels her mouth spread into an unwitting smile, because, while it doesn't sound like Quinn, it sounds exactly like her, at the same time.

"It came back her intern year," Beth says, growing sombre; "and she almost quit the program to look after Mom and me, but I reminded her about all the other kids she said she was going to save."

Rachel wonders, with all these promises, why did Quinn go into trauma?

"I think she still gets a shock when I tell her I want to be like her when I grow up," Beth says, looking a little wistful. "I mean, she was basically my age when I arrived, and she claims she had no idea what she wanted to do with her life, so I'm basically ahead of the game. All I know is I also want to help little kids the way she does."

Rachel freezes. "Also?" she questions, speaking for the first time.

"Oh, right," Beth says, shrugging. "She doesn't do that anymore at this hospital."

That is - that is news. Does that mean Quinn is a Paediatric surgeon? Why doesn't Rachel know that? And, why isn't Quinn working in this department, then?

Wait.

Why would her father hire someone else in Paediatrics when he has her?

Well.

He didn't always, so it makes sense he would make some kind of arrangement to fill her position. To surpass her position.

Whoa.

Did Rachel take the position Quinn was originally hired to fill? No wonder she looks so amused whenever Rachel talks about their respective specialties as if hers is superior.

"So… she wasn't your doctor?" Rachel finds herself asking, because, despite what may or may not have been revealed the night before - and even today - she's still confused about it.

"No," Beth says, frowning lightly. "I thought doctors couldn't treat family."

"Well, yeah, but - "

"She's my _mother_ , Dr Rachel," Beth says, as if Rachel is some kind of idiot. "She gave birth to me. Shouldn't you know that?"

And, yeah, Rachel probably should know that, because everyone else seems to. How did she miss that? Was she just not paying enough attention to Quinn's life beyond, well, _her_?

That makes some kind of sense, because Rachel has been stuck in her own head for much longer than she's even known Quinn. It's why she's in this mess in the first place, isn't it?

Her life was in tatters when she met Quinn, and nothing much has changed since. The one thing she's holding onto is her career, and even that went wildly off track after the divorce and then her ill-fated relationship with one of the orderlies.

One would think she would have learned to date outside the hospital before Quinn, and she likes to think that's the reason she held off for as long as she did. And yet, that relationship - if one can even call it that - ended even more horrifically than her actual marriage.

Beth turns her body fully to face her, brow creased. "That day, in the cafeteria, I didn't know who you were," she says. "Quinn doesn't really talk about her love life if she can help it, because she knows I don't like the fact she doesn't usually take her romantic relationships seriously."

Rachel feels her own heart squeeze at the word 'love,' because that can't be accurate. It's just an expression people use. There was never actually any love between them. Just lust.

"But, it was different with you," Beth says, and, as much as Rachel wants to deny it; she knows the teenager is right. It _was_ different. Because, as much as Quinn played the field when she first arrived, there was a part of her that was always interested in only Rachel.

Still.

It doesn't matter now.

What's done is done, and Rachel isn't interested in fixing anything. If she even could.

"She called me that night," Beth says, stepping forward and dropping the volume of her voice. Rachel doesn't even have to wonder what night she's talking about. "She called me, and there was something in her voice that I'd never heard before, and I hope I never do again. She asked me if I knew she loved me. She asked me if she showed it enough; if I could tell, and I've never understood why that would have been a worry of hers until I got here."

Rachel audibly swallows, memories of that day flooding her mind and forcing herself to remember the horrible circumstances that got them to this position. She accused Quinn of being incapable of love. She spat the words right in her face, calling her heartless and selfish and accusing her of not understanding the way Rachel felt because she couldn't even _feel_ anything.

Sometimes, she hates herself for it.

And, sometimes, she convinces herself she doesn't care.

Other times, it barely even matters.

"I don't know what she's told you - " Rachel starts, but Beth cuts her off.

"That's just it," she says, and she sounds so much like Quinn that Rachel has to blink twice; "she's told me _nothing_." Her eyes are cold now. "And, from what I know of my own mother, that tells me a hell of a lot more than it doesn't."

Rachel has no actual response for her, and Beth takes her silence for what it is.

"I'm sorry you think her so incapable of love," Beth says. "She obviously didn't show you well enough."

It's really the first time Rachel has the urge to defend Quinn, because it's not Quinn's fault Rachel wasn't paying enough attention. That she resisted so much.

Beth eyes her closely, reading her as if she's an open book. "Or, she did, and you just didn't notice," she offers as the alternative. At Rachel's silence, she sighs. "Well, it doesn't matter now."

Which should be true, but Rachel gets the feeling it still does.

* * *

Rachel doesn't want to deal with whatever Beth may or may not have revealed to her about what Quinn might have felt for her, so she decides to deal with the professional aspect of the revelation.

She finds her father in his office, poring over an endless amount of paperwork. He's always busy, moving from meeting to meeting, working on budgets and scrubbing in on surgeries whenever he's lucky or they just needs all hands on deck. It's not exactly a job she envies, though they all seem to be working toward Chief of Surgery.

One day, maybe, when she's tired of chasing after surgeries.

Her knock draws his attention, and he smiles automatically. There have been times when their relationship has been fraught with tension, but they seem to be in a better place. Especially after the disaster that was that last day with Quinn. And Finn.

"Sweetheart," he says, beaming at her. "What brings you by?"

She steps into his office and closes the door behind her. She's not really sure how she wants to phrase her question, but what ends up coming out is: "Why did you hire Quinn?"

He's obviously surprised by the question, his mouth dropping open rather comically. "Um," he starts, and then stops. Breathes. "She's a brilliant surgeon, Rachel. You know that."

And, the thing is that Rachel _does_ know. "But, _why_ did you hire her? For which position?"

LeRoy pauses, his pen frozen in his hand. "What do you mean?"

"She's a board-certified paediatric surgeon," Rachel says.

"I'm aware."

"And, so am I," Rachel says.

"I'm also aware of that."

"Why is she working in Trauma?" Rachel asks, not quite understanding why any of it is bothering her as much as it is. It shouldn't matter. Why does it even matter? She really doesn't want it to matter.

LeRoy sighs heavily, setting his pen on his desk. "Rachel," he says, and he sounds too much like her father to be her boss in this moment. "You told me you were done." His jaw clenches, but it's not in anger. She knows him well enough to know it's in disappointment, and she can only hope it isn't directed at her. "After the divorce, and then after the scrutiny over starting that thing with Finn; you said you wanted out of this hospital and were refusing to negotiate your new contract. What was I supposed to do? I have a hospital to run." And, now, he's definitely her boss.

"So, you hired her, and then what?" she questions. "I didn't end up leaving."

"No, you didn't," LeRoy agrees. "She was confused at first, when the job description changed, but she embraced it, either way, because she's definitely more than qualified for it. I think she's done wonders for our Emergency Room."

"She's done wonders for our mortality rate, too," Rachel mutters under her breath, and they both know she's just bitter.

Continues to be.

Angry and heartbroken and determined to hold onto a grudge that's misplaced and unnecessary.

LeRoy lets out a tired breath, removing his reading glasses and rubbing his face. "I don't understand why you're bringing this up," he says.

Truthfully, she doesn't either, but her mouth still opens and says, "Finn would still be alive." It's really the only thing she can hold onto at this point. After everything she's already put everyone through, it is the only thing that makes sense. "If she wasn't in charge of our ER, he would still be alive. If she wasn't the one to make all the big calls, he would still be here."

Rachel knows this.

She knows it without a shadow of a doubt, because there was a chance. There was a window of opportunity, after the accident, to save him. They just had to make the right choices, and Quinn chose wrong, and now Finn is dead, and Rachel can't ever forgive her for that.

Leg, heart or head.

It's really all it boils down to.

Leg, heart or head.

Quinn chose head, and Finn's heart gave out.

Rachel still prickles with anger at the unfairness of it all. She and Finn weren't even together anymore. Their breakup coincided with Quinn's arrival, and Rachel knows Quinn and Finn clashed on a number of things... which may or may not have had something to do with Rachel.

It was there. Quinn enjoyed riling him up too much, because Rachel _was_ a sore spot for him, and it created a tension Quinn found too amusing. Really, at times, Rachel thought Quinn was flirting with her only to get under Finn's skin, but she learned rather quickly that wasn't the case. Maybe it started that way, but Quinn kept up her pursuit long after Finn left work at the hospital.

It doesn't matter now. It just doesn't matter, and she shouldn't have to tell herself that as much as she does. Seriously. Why can't she just move on? It isn't even as if Quinn isn't respecting her wishes.

Because she is. She's left her alone, steering as far away from her, wearing her heartbreak as if it doesn't exist. Rachel doesn't let herself think too hard about how she may have hurt Quinn in her anger and grief, because that would mean she's been wrong about Quinn all along, and she's not ready to face that possibility.

That truth.

Because Quinn can't be the person Beth describes and still be the stone-cold killer Rachel has painted her in her head. She's not. Rachel knows she's not, but she can't help it. She needs somebody to blame, and Quinn is her easiest target.

She's too much of a coward to blame herself.

* * *

Rachel wouldn't call herself a menace, but even she can acknowledge she's been increasingly snappy as the week progresses. She's not entirely sure why, and only a handful of people are brave enough to call her out on it.

Her father, of course.

Her ex-husband, which is a horrid but accepted byproduct of the seven months they spent married.

And Santana Lopez, cardio god among men.

If Rachel had to choose whom she'd want to confront her, she would probably pick Jesse. He's at least a person she can almost understand. LeRoy is foreign to her, now that she's an adult, and Santana is -

Well.

Rachel would probably give up a kidney if the woman wouldn't ever speak to her again. She really, really would. She's even on the list of donors, ready and willing, if ever someone needed it.

But, alas, Santana Lopez is standing right in front of her and she's wearing her patented scowl. The expression terrifies interns and a lot of the younger residents, but Rachel isn't afraid of her. It's probably the one thing Santana both hates and respects about her.

"You know," she woman says; " _I'm_ usually the one making interns cry; not you."

Rachel keeps her eyes focused on the chart in her hands.

"So, tell me, what's crawled into your kale smoothie?"

Rachel shakes her head, because she's never going to talk to Santana Lopez about this. Goodness. She'd schedule herself for an MRI the second she actively considered doing that. "Did you have a medical question, Dr Lopez?" Rachel forces herself to ask.

Santana regards her closely. "We've never talked about it, have we?"

"There's nothing to talk about."

"I doubt that," she says. "Because, unlike you, I was actually in that OR when Finn died."

Rachel flinches.

"I mean, do you even know what happened, or did you just create your narrative where Quinn is the obvious villain, just because you didn't get the outcome you wanted?"

Rachel doesn't respond to that, because it hits a little too close to the truth.

Santana must sense the true answer, anyway. She scoffs. "I don't even know what she sees in you," she says with a shake of her head. "You're both so fucking miserable, stubborn and stupid with your damn pride." She clicks her tongue. "Would save us all the trouble if she'd just tell you what really happened."

Rachel blinks. "What?"

"But, no, she's so fucking noble," Santana grumbles, mostly to herself. "She'd rather you hate her than - " she stops suddenly, and then shakes her head. "God, woman, just get your shit together," she says. "I'm the only one allowed to terrorise the interns." And then she walks away, leaving Rachel even more confused.

What just happened?

What did Santana mean?

It's maybe a good thing her phone goes off, because thinking about it is giving her a headache. Better to put her to work, and the mass trauma incoming is enough to keep her occupied for the next however many hours it takes to clear the ER.

Rachel works mainly with Blaine, but she's always aware of where Quinn is, her voice louder than the rest as she synchronises her Emergency Room. All the trauma rooms are occupied by the highest level traumas, and the rest of the beds are occupied as well.

It's really a madhouse, but it all seems to work, somehow.

Quinn is a wonderful orchestrator.

Rachel ends up working on a thirty year old man in Trauma Room 3, and her heart stills at the sight of him. Her mind thinks, _he looks so much like Finn_ , and she just knows there is no way she is going to let this man die.

It is touch and go for far too long, and they spend long minutes trying to get him stable enough to move to an Operating Room. He's a fighter, and Rachel won't give up, even if Blaine looks more and more dejected whenever the man flatlines.

After the fourth time, his heart does not restart. As much as she tries - and she tries - it does not start beating again, and she can't - it can't -

She keeps trying. Trying and trying, and she realises she's crying only when strong arms wrap around her and drag her away from where she's probably broken the man's ribs in her desire to bring him back to life.

The arms carry her away, right out of the room as Blaine calls time of death, and Rachel feels the fight bleed right out of her. Replaced by grief she's never been able to get through. She chokes on a sob, her hands coming up to cover her face, only to stop at the sight of the blood on her hands.

There is blood on her hands.

 _Finn's_ blood.

That day, he called early in the morning, but she dodged his call in favour of Quinn going down on her. They'd spent the night together, wrapped around each other in ways Rachel didn't think she'd ever be able to with Quinn Fabray.

Then Finn called again, leaving a voicemail asking her to call him back, or he was going to make his way to the hospital to talk to her.

She didn't call him back.

He made his way to the hospital, and got hit by a bus on the way.

Now he's dead. He's dead, and it's -

Rachel looks down at the arms holding onto her, recognises the infinity charm Quinn wears on her right wrist, and she screams.

 _Screams_.

Quinn immediately lets go, dropping her right in the middle of the Emergency Room, and Rachel spins around so quickly that her neck clicks. Quinn's hand automatically reaches out, and Rachel _reacts_.

"Don't touch me!" she yells, her body on high alert. It feels like that day all over again, Rachel bloody and emotional, and Quinn looking at her with defeat and concern and morbid understanding.

Rachel hates it.

Positively despises it.

Her hands reach out without her consent and she shoves Quinn back. Hard. Quinn doesn't expect it, and stumbles backwards, tripping over a chair behind her.

Rachel turns away before she hits the ground, and then bolts from the Emergency Room as if Finn's ghost is chasing her.

* * *

It is hours later when Rachel feels stable enough to leave the on-call room she's been hiding in. She's cried out, mortified beyond anything, and just completely strung out.

She hasn't touched her phone. She doesn't want to know what kind of aftermath she left behind. A part of her doesn't even care.

Okay.

That's not true.

She just - she definitely cares. A lot. So much. It's why she's such a mess. She should have taken the time off. She should have taken her therapy seriously, and she definitely should have listened when Quinn tried to explain.

Rachel spends a few minutes fixing herself up for her escape, hoping she can leave the hospital without anyone noticing. There's nobody in the corridor when she opens the door, and she manages to work her way to the Attending Lounge without anyone actually talking to her.

The Lounge, unfortunately, isn't empty, but she stops herself just before she walks in, hearing voices. She knows nothing good can be said this late at night.

"It can't go on like this." That's Santana. "If you won't tell her, then I will."

Rachel holds her breath, expecting to hear Quinn's voice, but getting her father's instead. "You can't."

"She's going to leave, you know?" Santana says. "I know she was concussed when she said she was resigning, but she'll do it, and I don't blame her. Rachel could have killed her."

"That's a bit extreme."

"You didn't see it, LeRoy," Santana says. "You didn't see that anger, and it's worse because she doesn't even deserve it." She clicks her tongue. "Quinn is going to leave, and I don't even know how many doctors will follow after her."

"She can't leave," LeRoy says. "She's under contract."

"Your daughter also assaulted her because she thinks Quinn is responsible for something you did," Santana accuses. "Quinn might be too polite not to use that against you, but I'm not. I am sick and tired of watching Little Berry get away with whatever the fuck she wants because you can't handle the truth that her precious Finn is actually dead because of a call you made."

Rachel covers her mouth with her hand before she can make a sound.

"Santana," LeRoy says, voice a little higher. "Please keep your voice down."

"Why should I?" Santana throws back. "Do you know I had to stitch the back of my best friend's head today? Because your kid is completely unhinged, and you're letting her keep believing that the woman she was falling in love with is responsible for the death of her ex-boyfriend just because you can't admit to asking Quinn for something impossible."

"Finn was as good as dead, no matter what choice I made."

"And yet, you allowed Quinn to be the one to deliver the news when she wasn't even in the fucking OR when he coded."

Rachel takes a step back, and then another and another. She turns and walks away, her feet carrying her as far away as possible. Her heart is beating too fast, her breathing unsteady.

Wait.

Just, hold on.

Rachel must look a sight when she stops in front of the nearest nurses' station and demands a tablet. Poor Janice fumbles for one and passes it over. Rachel mumbles a _thank you_ and heads off to another on-call room, her fingers already inputting her father's memorised credentials and searching through the surgical archive for Finn Hudson. She's never had access to it through her own, which she appreciated, but now she wonders if it was all by design.

She freezes when she finds it, the world stopping with her. She's never actually tried to read the report on the surgery. She's never wanted to know exactly how he died, except for that she knows his heart just couldn't handle the trauma.

Which were the words Quinn said to her.

She reads from the beginning, searching for Quinn's name. _Needing_ to see Quinn's name. Needing to know she's been justified in her hatred all these months.

It appears at the end.

_At the patient's third flatline, the chances of revival were deemed improbable. S. Lopez ceased compressions after a fifteen minute period of no response. Q. Fabray entered the OR at 16h18 and immediately resumed compressions, urging them not to stop. There were no indications of the chance of resuscitation, but she persisted, demanding they keep trying. She kept up compressions for 34 minutes. At 16h54, L. Berry called TOD and requested Q. Fabray make the notification to the family. After a moment, she left the OR and -_

Rachel stops reading.

She stops breathing.

Everything just stops.

Quinn wasn't even in the OR. She wasn't even there. She arrived later. _After_. She tried to -

Rachel steps to the side, leans her back against a wall and slides to the ground. It feels - she can't - why would -

It's too much all of a sudden, and her heart can't handle this. No part of her can handle this. Why would - why is -

She squeezes her eyes shut, rocking herself as the world speeds up all over again. Quinn - Quinn tried to _save_ him. Quinn is the one who kept fighting. Quinn came out to tell her he was gone. She came out knowing Rachel would react in a certain way.

Rachel remembers Quinn's face, her expression concerned and understanding and heartbroken. She remembers seeing her eyes, how they told Rachel just how sorry she was. She remembers Quinn's hands, already reaching out to offer all of herself, as if she expected Rachel to seek comfort from her instead of pushing her away.

Accusing her of doing it on purpose, because she wanted Rachel for herself.

She remembers Quinn's face then, the way it crumpled in some form of morbid realisation at what Rachel must have thought about her.

After everything.

After she finally gave in.

After they had sex that turned into making love.

After Quinn whispered in the dark of night, _you make me the happiest I've ever been_.

And after Rachel murmured back, _I want this moment never to end_.

Quinn had taken everything Rachel screamed at her in silence, and Rachel - none of it made her feel better.

She's never felt _better_.

Not since that last morning, with Quinn's hands on her body, mouth against her ear as they moved together. She naïvely thought they were making some kind of music, moving to the perfect rhythm. That it was their moment in time, and they could somehow figure out the rest as it came.

Santana called Quinn _the woman she was falling in love with_ , and that keeps replaying in her head. Rachel can't realistically say it wasn't happening, because she _was_.

She _did_.

Which is probably why it hurt even more. It's worse now. It was always going to be worse. Not only did she lose Finn that day, but also Quinn.

And now, her father.

It's sobering and heartbreaking in a way she never expected.

So she sits and breathes and spends long minutes getting a handle on her thoughts and feelings.

Tomorrow.

She'll talk to them all tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

Tomorrow.

First, Rachel oversleeps and arrives at the hospital just late enough that she's actually on time. She's usually in before most, able to slide into the Attending Lounge and get changed long before Rounds even begin.

Today, she doesn't even bother with that. Instead, she heads straight for her father's office, ignoring the looks she receives on her way. They must all know what's happened; what she's done.

They _have_ to know, because they've always known.

Rachel doesn't really expect to find LeRoy in his office, so she's a little surprised when he is. She peeks at him through the glass windows, watches the way he hunches over his desk. He looks stressed, which isn't anything new, but she suspects it's mainly to do with her.

The conversation she overheard between him and Santana last night replays in her head, forcing her to take steps forward. She needs the truth. She needs to hear from him what really happened. She needs to know.

When she does enter his office, he doesn't say a word to her. Just hands her a piece of paper and starts scribbling on another. For a second, she thinks it's some kind of confession about what really happened with Finn, but one look down proves it's almost worse.

It's Quinn's letter of resignation, effective immediately.

Rachel reads it twice, taking in the professional wording that signifies an end Rachel doesn't know she'll be able to accept. It strikes her deep in her gut that all of this is suddenly happening and she feels unmoored all over again.

"She can't," is what Rachel's helpful brain offers, which really isn't at all what she wants to say. It's just that - Quinn can't just leave. She can't. She can't just go.

LeRoy finally looks at her. "Well, what did you expect?" he asks pointedly. "After that stunt you pulled yesterday; we're lucky she's not suing."

Rachel knows Quinn would never do that, but the thought she _could_ \- that the action would be warranted - unsettles Rachel even further. She already has so much to apologise for, and she doesn't know how she's supposed to do that if Quinn isn't here.

Rachel sets the sheet of paper on the desk and straightens her spine. "After what I did," she echoes quietly. "Because this is all my fault."

"Do you have any idea how hard it's been to keep her here?" he questions. "Our Trauma Centre needs her."

Rachel stares at him. "What about what I need?"

Here, he pauses, because there's something very specific in her voice. "What?"

"Were you ever going to tell me I've been directing all my anger at the wrong person for the past three months?" she asks. "Or were you just going to let me keep hating Quinn for something she wasn't even in the room for until we both quit this damn hospital?"

LeRoy opens his mouth to speak, but immediately closes it.

It's not the first time Rachel has entertained the idea of quitting her job, moving to the forest and just spending her days as a hermit. But, it is the first time she considers it seriously.

She's not happy.

She hasn't been for so long.

Before Quinn, and before Finn, and even before Jesse. She's had moments here and there, but she's disillusioned by her career and her life and she just needs to breathe.

"Fire me," Rachel suddenly says, surprising them both. "Fire me, and keep Quinn."

LeRoy lifts his head up, back straight. "Rachel," he says. "That isn't how this works."

"Well, fire me anyway."

LeRoy blinks, seemingly caught off guard. "I've already lost one surgeon today; I am not about to lose another one."

Rachel shakes her head. "If you don't fire me; I'm going to quit."

LeRoy looks suitably caught off guard, because the words are unexpected. Just not the first time she's said them. She's threatened to quit twice before, but this is really the first time she's been serious about it.

She's done.

She doesn't think she can work here anymore. Not with this man in front of her, and not with this entire hospital in the know about her numerous breakdowns. And, as much as Quinn has hidden herself from her, Rachel doesn't think she wants to work here without her, either.

She just doesn't want to be here.

"Don't do this," LeRoy says.

"Why didn't _you_ tell me?" she questions him. "Why would you let _Quinn_ be the one to tell me?"

LeRoy visibly doesn't know what to say in response.

"It was because you _knew_ I would hate whoever told me," she says. "You knew, when you sent her out to me, it would ruin our relationship, and I want to know why. Why would you do that? Why would you take a second person from me?"

"Would you rather I taken myself?"

The answer is there, on the tip of her tongue, but she rather says, "Well, it doesn't matter now, does it?"

LeRoy's jaw clenches. "I am not firing you."

Rachel puffs out a breath. "Then you'll receive my letter of resignation by the end of the day," she declares and then stalks out of the office, a single destination in mind.

Well, a certain person.

She knows Quinn can't possibly be at the hospital today, so she goes to find Santana instead. The woman is berating an intern when Rachel finds her in a corridor, which is severely on brand. She waits a little while, watching, and trying to figure out just what she's going to say when she gets Santana's attention.

Then she does, and all words fail her.

"She's not here," Santana says when Rachel can't speak. "If you wanted to finish the job."

"She resigned," is what she says.

"She did."

"Is she okay?" Rachel finds herself asking, desperate to know.

"Beth's watching her," Santana informs her. "Mild concussion."

"Oh."

"She'll survive."

Rachel shifts her weight from one foot to the other. "Do you think - " she starts, and then stops. "I want to apologise. Do you think she'd let me?"

Santana eyes her critically for a long, long time. " _You know_ ," she states. "You know what really happened."

"Nobody told me."

"You didn't listen the first time she tried, and then she just stopped trying." Santana shakes her head. "After everything you said to her; do you really blame her?"

"I - "

"Well, you blamed her for everything else, so what does it matter, right?"

It's been so long since Rachel has really talked to Quinn, or really anyone else who isn't Jesse. Even talking to Santana feels foreign in a way that she's just another adult she's hidden herself from.

She's safest with the tiny human beings.

"Will she be willing to listen?" Rachel asks.

"She's always been willing to listen," Santana informs her. "It's the people around her who might prove to be difficult to convince." She raises her eyebrows. "Do you even know what you're going to say to her?"

Rachel has an idea, but she's not going to be able to dictate that to Santana before she can to Quinn. She's the one who deserves her apology first. Her explanation. Her _heart_.

Maybe Santana sees something in her expression, because her own expression softens just slightly. "She's at home," she says. "Texting me every few minutes to check on her patients, even though she technically doesn't even have any of her own." She rolls her eyes. "You should go see her."

"I should?"

Santana nods. "And take her some patient reports or something. And chocolate. Wait. Take her some bacon."

Rachel can't quite figure out how she feels in this moment. "Why are you helping me?"

Santana sighs. "You went through a shitty thing, Little Berry, and so you've put nearly everyone around you through shitty things too. But, for some reason, Quinn seems to care about you, despite everything, and she's my best friend, which means I want her to be happy, and - "

"You think I can make her happy?"

Santana groans. "God, you two are both so fucking useless." She waves her hands in the air. "Please get out of my face. I have lives to save."

Rachel has the sudden desire to wrap arms around her in a hug, but she just knows Santana won't appreciate it. She does offer a grateful smile, though, and then she's on her way again. She has another destination.

Quinn's home.

She's been there only three times before. The first was the third week they knew each other, when Rachel, Sam and Jesse met to brainstorm the treatment of a new patient. There'd been wine and excessive flirting from Quinn, and when Rachel looks at it now; she smiles a little indulgently. It could have been a double date, in another life.

The second time was the first night they ever gave into their desires. It'd been after a long and exhausting shift, the two of them reeling after a morbid case. Quinn had casually mentioned sharing a glass of wine, and Rachel gave in.

She just gave in, allowing Quinn to hand her a glass of red, and then to take her to bed. Rachel thought their first time would be explosive, but it'd been slow and purposeful. It'd been a comfort for them both.

The explosive sex happened the third time Rachel went to her place. They'd spent the day teasing each other, Quinn standing entirely too close to her during Rounds and Rachel looking at her at every opportunity available. They'd barely made it through the front door before they were grabbing at each other, and Rachel spent yet another of what should have many nights in Quinn's bed.

Quinn told her, once, that she preferred Rachel's place. It was warmer, more comfortable, and Quinn liked her bed better. And her shower. Her kitchen, too.

A lot happened in those thirteen days, and all she's thinking about as she makes her way to Quinn's place is that this shouldn't be the fourth time. Not now. Not with this thing hanging over them.

It's all she's thinking about when she gets to Quinn's door, and she takes a few moments to compose herself before she lifts a hand to knock. Then she holds her breath.

Beth answers the door, because of course she's the one to answer the door.

Rachel doesn't know what to say at first - go figure - but her mouth opens and she says, "I really need to talk to her."

"She's asleep," Beth says.

"No, she's not," Rachel counters. "I know she's not, because she's Quinn, and she definitely wouldn't be able to sleep. _Especially_ if someone is telling her to."

Beth folds her arms over her chest. "Then she just doesn't want to see you."

Rachel doesn't quite believe that either, but she's not about to force Beth to let Quinn speak to her. Or let her speak to Quinn. She's resigned to it, perhaps, and she's just about to agree to leave - for now - when Quinn appears behind Beth.

Rachel's breath catches in her throat at the sight of her, and Quinn's eyes widen in return. She looks so soft, standing there in her sweats, and her hair loose around her shoulders. She's a little pale, but there's a brightness in her eyes that Rachel recognises as being directed at solely her.

"Beth," Quinn says, hand on the teenager's shoulder. "It's okay."

Beth doesn't move.

Quinn squeezes gently. "We probably should talk," she says. "Let us."

Beth still looks uncertain, but she glances at Quinn and sees her expression, which is calm and understanding. She gives in a moment after that, and then shoots Rachel a warning glare before slinking away.

Rachel's sure Beth hasn't gone too far, but she appreciates the illusion of privacy. "Can I see?"

Quinn frowns slightly before she realises what Rachel is talking about and steps forward. She tilts her head down, turning slightly, and Rachel reaches out to touch the back of her head. There's an obvious lump, her fingers passing over the little bumps of Quinn's stitches.

Rachel's hand slides down, resting on the back of her neck. "I'm sorry," she whispers, absently drawing Quinn closer.

"I shouldn't have touched you."

"It's no excuse," Rachel tells her. "It's not."

"Okay."

Rachel steps closer, into the doorway, her hand tightening on the back of Quinn's neck. It's really the first time she's touched Quinn this way in so long. "I'm not okay," she says quietly.

"I know."

"I don't know how to be okay."

Quinn's temple presses against hers, and Rachel breathes her in. "Let me help."

"I quit this morning."

Quinn pulls back in slight alarm. "What?"

"Well, I tried to get my father to fire me, but he refused," she reveals. "So I quit."

"You can't quit."

"Well, neither can you."

Quinn puffs out a breath. "I thought it was what you wanted," she says. "You've told me numerous times that you want nothing to do with me, and I don't know how to do that while still being in the same place as you."

"Then I'll be the one to leave."

"But you're the one who has all the actual patients."

"We're not going to get anywhere arguing about this," Rachel says. "But that's not really why I'm here."

"Why _are_ you here?"

Rachel draws her closer again, just needing to be in her space. "I'm sorry," she says again, and the words sound heavier than before. "God, I'm so sorry."

Quinn stares at her for a moment. "You know."

"I know."

"How?"

Rachel looks away. "I overheard Santana and my father talking about it," she says. "And then I found the medical report."

Quinn stiffens at _that_ revelation. "Rachel," she breathes.

"I haven't been okay for a long time," she says. "From before you even decided to terrorise me."

"I did not - " Quinn starts, and then stops when she sees Rachel's smile. "I didn't help, did I?"

"I think you did, but not in a healthy way," Rachel says. "I think the best thing for me is to take a step back from everything and just - "

Quinn turns her head. "You're going away?" Her voice is so low, a slight crack as she speaks.

Rachel hums softly. "Did you know my parents are divorced?" she says.

"You mentioned it once."

"My other father lives in Ohio," she elaborates. "I think I'm going to pay him a visit for a little while."

Quinn gets closer, crowding Rachel's space. "You don't have to - "

"Quinn."

"Please don't - please don't just leave."

Rachel has felt out of sorts for so long, but there's something in the tone of Quinn's voice that suddenly grounds her. It settles something in her chest, and doesn't terrify her as much as it should.

"Quinn?"

Another head tilt, and Rachel can feel Quinn's breath against her skin. This moment feels important. It feels monumental.

"You should come visit me," she says. "In Ohio. Take a few days off and see where I grew up."

Quinn blinks in surprise. "You do realise I'm currently unemployed, right?"

"There's no way my father's letting you go," Rachel tells her. "You're too important to the vision he has for his hospital."

"We should open our own damn hospital," Quinn comments offhandedly, and Rachel can't resist pressing her lips to Quinn's cheek. God, she's missed her so damn much. She's missed her closeness and her attention. She's just missed _her_.

"You'll come visit me," Rachel says.

Quinn sighs. "I'll come visit you."

"Let me make it up to you."

Quinn opens her mouth, and then closes it. She very carefully slides her arms around Rachel's body and draws her into a hug that lasts something of a lifetime. It feels like both a beginning and an end, and she doesn't want to let her go.

"I'll see you soon," Rachel whispers into her ear, and she suddenly can't wait for it.

It takes a while, but Quinn eventually releases her just enough to kiss her softly. Gently enough that Rachel's toes even curl. It lingers in the same way Quinn does, and Rachel has never felt a love like this.

The kiss ends naturally, and then Rachel leaves. There's more she can say, but now isn't the time, and she needs to work on far too many things before they can have that kind of conversation.

Any kind of conversation, at all.

* * *

As expected, LeRoy doesn't accept Rachel's resignation, but he does approve an extended leave of absence. She hears from Jesse that he didn't offer the same courtesy to Quinn, whose own resignation was rejected and so granted no leave.

 _Yet_ , at least.

Still, Rachel tries not to think too hard about it as she packs up for an extended trip to Ohio with her father, Hiram. He's been trying to get her to go out there for months - maybe even years - and now she's taking him up on his persistent offer.

She has to spend a full day in the Paediatric Ward with her kids, passing on her patients to other doctors until she gets back. She has two Fellows working under her, but her direct link will come through Marley, mostly.

She gives Henry a long, long hug and tells him, "You better be out of here by the time I get back," and he just tells her he's going to miss her.

Then she's gone.

It's restful, being home. It's kind of perfect, actually, not really having to take care of herself. It doesn't even matter that she's in her thirties. She just needs to decompress, and it works for two weeks before she grows antsy.

She also hasn't heard from Quinn in all that time.

Jesse keeps her updated on what's happening at the hospital, given he's really the only one she actively talks to, at all socially. He takes sneaky pictures of Quinn whenever he can, merely proof she's still alive and well, and Rachel both loves and hates him for it.

She starts working on things in the house when she gets bored - which is mainly just the little herb plants her father's attempting to grow in his kitchen - and then reading up on medical journals for when she gets back to her little people.

They're really whom she misses the most. Her patients, tiny and tinier as they are. It's such an odd thing being away from them, but Jesse regularly visits and she knows that her Paediatric team is one of the best in the country.

It's after three weeks and five days that Quinn texts her a picture of herself and Henry with the caption, _guess who's getting discharged 🥳_

Her heart stills in her chest at the sight of them, and she's so tempted to call Quinn immediately. She wants to hear her voice and just talk to her. She wants to hear Quinn tell her about Henry and how he's doing. She wants so many things.

Before she can reply, Quinn texts again with a, _fancy a call later tonight?_ , and Rachel wonders how she got so lucky.

 _That sounds perfect_ , she texts back, and then spends the next few hours on edge. She's not exactly panicked, but there's something about the way she can't seem to sit still while she waits with her phone on full volume that makes her feel like a teenager.

The call comes just after nine o'clock, and Rachel has to force herself not to leap to answer it immediately. She's calm. She's totally calm. She answers with a breathy, "Hello."

"There you are," Quinn says, and Rachel definitely shouldn't feel as giddy as she does just hearing Quinn's voice. "Henry said hello, by the way."

"Aw, sweet Henry," she murmurs. "You discharged him?"

"Hmm," Quinn says. "Big Berry has me covering some Paeds. I hope that's okay."

"Well, I did learn recently you're actually qualified for such a thing."

"Beth mentioned that," Quinn says.

"You didn't."

"I think we've come to realise there are a lot of things we both didn't mention to each other."

Rachel can only agree with that, because there are so many things they don't actually know about each other. She wasn't quite willing to learn before, but now she wants nothing more. She wants Quinn in a way she resisted for so long, and she's hoping Quinn wants her, too.

"Will you tell me about Beth?" Rachel asks, lying back against the pillows of her bed. "Will you tell me about your daughter?"

Quinn breathes out slowly. "She told me you've talked, before," she says. "Said she might have said some... things."

"I don't think I'm her favourite person," Rachel admits. "With good reason."

"She'll get over it," Quinn mutters, and then laughs softly. "She's a teenager who's survived cancer. Twice. She'll get over it in no time, don't worry."

Rachel has so many questions, but she holds them in. Quinn will tell her whenever she's ready.

"I had her when I was seventeen," Quinn explains, and her voice sounds heavy. "She wasn't exactly planned, I'm sure you've figured, and Beth is the only thing to come out of my entire high school experience that's worth something." She takes a breath. "My family didn't react well to my pregnancy and they kicked me out."

Rachel gasps softly, horrified. "Oh, Quinn."

"I stayed with a friend until she was born, and made the decision to give her up for adoption," Quinn continues. "I found Marcella through an agency; this woman who'd also been abandoned by her family, but for being a lesbian, and I guess I just resonated with her. She promised me an open adoption, and I actually ended up spending the rest of high school living with her and Beth. It wasn't normal, I know, but we really helped each other, and I healed in ways I wasn't sure I needed to while I was with them.

"I left for college soon after graduation, which was harder than I thought it would be. I missed them so much, but I saw them often, and they - they're important to me. They're my family."

Rachel can understand that much, because she's found family outside of her blood, too.

Quinn goes on to explain Beth's getting sick, and how that's all moulded the trajectory of her life. Her voice catches in places, and Rachel wishes Quinn were with her, so she could hold her. Just hug her and reassure her.

"But she's better now," Quinn says, clearing her throat. "She's a little shit, really, and she loves to use the fact she survived cancer to get away with murder. Marcella calls me at least once a week complaining about what Beth tries to get away with."

Rachel smiles dreamily, listening to Quinn tell her tales of Beth's antics over the years, and it's really the first time Rachel entertains the idea of getting to witness Quinn as a mother. It's something she wants, she just knows.

It's near midnight when Quinn starts yawning, and then actually gasps when she checks the time. "Rachel," she squeaks. "I have a five o'clock operating time."

"You're the one who called me," she accuses lightly.

"You're easy to talk to," Quinn shoots right back, laughing softly. "I've missed this."

"I've missed _you_."

"I _miss_ you."

Rachel closes her eyes. "You know where I am," she points out. "My invitation still stands."

"What on earth am I going to do in _Ohio_?" Quinn asks, a slight whine in her voice.

"Me," Rachel answers without thinking, and then flushes deeply where she is. "Oh, my God. Ignore me. Pretend I didn't say that."

"You really do miss me, don't you?" Quinn teases, though her voice drops suggestively. "Miss my hands, hmm? My mouth."

" _Quinn_."

"Baby."

Rachel breathes deeply. "I don't want it to be like that again," she says, debating with herself because, God, she _misses_ Quinn. "I don't want it just to be about sex anymore."

"Rachel," Quinn says, and her tone is a little sharp; pointed in a way that lets Rachel know there's no room for argument when she says her next words. "It was _never_ just about sex."

It feels a little silly, but the relief that washes over her is overwhelming. "I know."

"It's never been," Quinn confirms. "But I really should get to bed now."

"Okay."

"Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Call me whenever," Rachel tells her. "I have all the time in the world."

"Better rest up, then," Quinn says. "You'll be getting very little of it when I get there." And then she hangs up, leaving Rachel to ponder over exactly what that means.

Well.

* * *

Quinn brings up possibly visiting another three times during their various phone calls before she says, "So, I'm thinking I can squeeze out a few days off some time next week," and Rachel dies and goes to heaven.

It's really all she says, and she doesn't mention it again until a Wednesday evening the following week when the doorbell rings and Rachel opens the door to find none other than Quinn Fabray standing there, looking a pleasant cross between nervous and cocky.

She's dressed in a light bomber jacket and jeans that shape her legs, and Rachel wants nothing more than to drag her into a dark room and have her dirty, filthy way with her.

But then Quinn says, "Hey," with an awkward little wave and the spell is broken.

Rachel blinks in stupid surprise. "You're here."

Quinn frowns. "Um," she sounds; "did you not believe me when I said I was coming?" She pauses. "Wait. Did you not mean it when you invited me?"

"God, you're an idiot," Rachel says, lunging at her and throwing her arms around her neck. It knocks them both into the doorframe, and Rachel giggles at the low groan of pain Quinn lets out. "You're here."

Quinn squeezes her tightly. "I'm here," she murmurs. "I'm pretty sure you already knew I was coming, though."

"It's one thing to know it, and another thing to have you right here," Rachel tells her, not quite ready to let go. Quinn smells so good; feels so good.

"Are you just going to keep us out here?" Quinn asks, laughing softly.

"You want to come inside, huh?"

"I mean, I can't really do what I have planned for you out here, now can I?" Quinn murmurs, and Rachel shudders at the implication behind those words.

Rachel releases her immediately, grabs hold of her jacket and tugs her into the house. Quinn squeaks in surprise, protesting the movement.

"Wait, my things," she says, but she allows Rachel to pull her inside, laughing softly. "You want me that bad, huh?"

"I want you," Rachel confirms, and then smiles innocently; "to meet my father."

Quinn's smiles slips off her face, and Rachel has to kiss her cheek in response. She's honestly so adorable. "Wait. What?"

"He's just in the kitchen."

Quinn stops walking immediately. "Baby. Wait."

"What?"

"Give me a minute," she says. "I just - do I look okay?"

Rachel loves her.

It's not a sudden thing, but she knows it's true. She's probably known it for a while. That's why everything has hurt so much. That's why she still feels so guilty over the way she's treated this glorious woman over the past few months.

"You look perfect," Rachel informs her, and then slips her hand into Quinn's and pulls her towards what is the kitchen. Quinn is adorably tense as she follows, and they step into the kitchen to find a man remarkably similar to Rachel standing over the stove.

He turns when he hears them, and his eyes widen when he sees Quinn. He must know exactly whom she is, but Quinn still pulls herself together enough to hold out her hand and say, "Dr Berry, hello, I'm Quinn Fabray."

He blinks, eyes so similar to Rachel's. "The doctor," he says, shaking her hand.

Quinn's smile holds firm. "I - yes."

"I've heard a lot about you," he says, and here, her smile falters. "From both my ex-husband and my daughter."

"I imagine not all of it has been good."

"No, it wasn't," he says; "but I don't suppose that's all entirely your fault."

Quinn glances at Rachel, questions in her eyes. How much has Rachel told her father? It really doesn't help her situation when Rachel mouths the words, _He knows everything_.

"Dad," Rachel says, taking pity on Quinn. "Ease up. She came all this way to see me."

"From the snippets of conversation I've heard, I'm pretty sure she came all this way to sleep with you," he comments lightly, and Quinn positively sputters at the implication.

"Dad!"

Hiram just laughs, and then turns back to the stove where he has a pot going. "I'm making dinner," he says. "Or are you two wanting to go out on the town?"

It feels like a test, and the two women exchange a look before Quinn says, "Dinner sounds great." She smiles, still a little uneasy. "I can help."

"You have good knife skills, I imagine?"

Quinn nods, forcing herself not to make a comment about her talented hands. "Yes, Sir."

"Can you julienne?"

Quinn nods again. "Definitely," she says, and then glances at Rachel before looking back at Hiram. "I - um, would you mind if I just use the bathroom quickly? Freshen up a little? It's been a long trip."

Hiram looks at her for a long moment, before his features soften. Almost as if she's passed whatever test he set. Not like she's a thirty-three year old woman, who's set her sight on another thirty-three year old woman. "Of course," he says with a small smile, before he looks at Rachel. "Sweetheart, why don't you get Quinn settled in? Where are her bags?"

Rachel exchanges a long look with her father, and Quinn gets uncomfortable enough to say, "Oh, I don't have to stay here, Sir." Her heart beats too fast. "I just showed up, and I wouldn't want to assume - "

"Nonsense, Quinn," he dismisses offhandedly, and then Rachel is reaching for her hand and tugging her out of the kitchen and right out of the house.

It's when they get to Quinn's rental car that they both burst out laughing. "Oh, my God," Rachel says. "Holy shit, Quinn. I really didn't think this through."

"I feel so inadequate," Quinn says, wrapping her arms around Rachel's waist. "I'm literally a double board-certified surgeon. I've pushed an entire human being out of my body. I've made you come nine times in one night."

"Quinn!"

The laugh she receives is glorious and beautiful. "Baby, those are the highlights of my life."

Rachel leans back to look at Quinn's face. "Then I'd probably break your heart when I tell you it was actually eight times."

Quinn's eyes widen as her mouth drops open. "Did you fake on me?"

Rachel kisses her cheek. "Maybe it was eight and a half."

Quinn shakes her head. "My goal is now ten," she declares.

"I think you're going to have to save your prowess for when we're back in New York," she comments.

Quinn hums in agreement. "I'm not touching you in your father's house."

Rachel gives her a very significant look. "Is that a challenge?"

"Don't."

Rachel's smile is all innocence, and she feels so much lighter just having Quinn here. Being able to touch her and look at her and feel her warmth. "I'm so glad you're here," she reveals.

Quinn smiles softly. "I managed to squeeze out some time," she says. "Begged and pleaded and switched so many shifts, but I'm here, and I'm glad for it too."

"We have a lot to talk about, don't we?"

Quinn presses a kiss to her forehead, which is answer enough.

* * *

They don't really get around to having their talk until two nights later. After Quinn has somehow managed to endear herself to Hiram and Rachel shows Quinn all around her hometown. She takes Quinn to all the places that are important to her from her childhood, and it feels significant for their relationship.

It happens late at night, when Rachel has Quinn in her arms and in her bed. They've just spent the evening listening to Hiram tell all the embarrassing stories from Rachel's childhood, and Quinn is halfway asleep when she murmurs, "I love you."

Rachel is surprised, but also not. She does ask, "Why?" so quietly, because she can't imagine any kind of affection could have survived the tumultuous period they've faced for months. "I've been nothing but horrible to you, taking out my grief on you at every opportunity. I've hurt you, constantly, and you - you've deserved none of it."

Quinn shifts, lifting her head. "You thought me incapable of love," she says. "You told me I could never understand loss, because I didn't know love." She licks her lips. "But I loved you, and then I lost you, and I - "

"I'm so sorry."

"I don't chase people," Quinn says. "I don't linger, either. I don't wait around, nursing heartbreak. Not for anyone. Not since I was teenager and first duped by love. But I - I did all three of those things for you."

Rachel shifts her body, moving Quinn to lie on her back before climbing onto and over her. "We can try again," she whispers, touching her nose to Quinn's. "Do it differently. Do it better."

"Beth once told me I don't let people in all the way," Quinn says. "I - I did that with you. Kept you at a distance, even though I knew all I wanted was for you to know me. It's all I wanted. It's all I want. Everything with you."

Rachel kisses her now, in the dark of the night, and it feels important. Everything feels important. "We should talk more."

"Is that your way of telling me to move my hands?" Quinn asks, and Rachel realises then that Quinn's hands have snaked under her pyjama top. They're warm against her skin, and it's really the first time Quinn's actually _touched_ her since she arrived.

"I thought you said you're not going to touch me in my father's house?"

"I said that only because you're incapable of being quiet."

"Then you should probably know that my bedroom is soundproofed."

"What?"

Rachel kisses her again, soft and sweet. "If you want to touch, you can," she tells her. "If you want."

"I obviously want," Quinn says. "I just think we should wait."

It sounds like a good idea, but the reality of it isn't appealing. "Okay," she relents, and if there's a slight whine in her voice; Quinn doesn't mention it. She rolls off Quinn and tucks into her side, breathing her in. She doesn't know how she's going to survive sleeping in this bed once more when Quinn is gone.

Quinn shifts closer, wrapping arms around her and getting comfortable.

Rachel waits a minute, and then another minute. Again, Quinn is half asleep, but it's unmistakable when she hears Rachel whisper, "I love you too, by the way."

They both have pleasant, pleasant dreams.

* * *

"Do you have any idea when you're coming back?"

Rachel threads her fingers through Quinn's hair with one hand, the other keeping the phone pressed to her ear. She's currently leaning against a tree in the park closest to their house, and Quinn is catching a nap, head pillowed in Rachel's lap.

"I don't know, Jesse," Rachel says into the phone. "It's been quite refreshing being out of the hospital."

"That's great, Rachel, but you know you're going to have to come back, right? I would never forgive you for throwing away your talent just because your life hasn't seemed to be going the way you wanted it to."

Rachel puffs out a breath. "I don't know," she murmurs; "things really seem to be looking up."

"Did you get laid?" Jesse blurts. "Please tell me you're getting laid."

Emotionally, perhaps. Quinn has told her she loves her another three times since the first sleepy confession, and Rachel is just starting to believe it.

"Who is it?" Jesse presses. "Is it Quinn? Because she's suspiciously missing from work as well."

"Jesse," she laughs. "I was just calling to find out about Byron. Marley emailed that his parents brought him in again."

Jesse hums, and she hears him reach for something. "Your father's stressed, you know? Santana is having way too much fun messing with him."

"How?"

"She keeps insinuating you and Quinn aren't coming back, and I swear he's gone more grey in the weeks you've been gone. It's beautiful."

"You're still sour he was so supportive of the divorce."

"The man wanted to throw you a party, Rachel."

She giggles softly, watching as Quinn shifts slightly. She's stunning, even in sleep, and Rachel isn't looking forward to having to say goodbye to her the next day. "You would have attended that party," Rachel points out.

"Not the point, babe."

Rachel hums. "Can you just tell me about Byron please?"

He grumbles a little, but eventually does as requested, and the two of them spend the next fifteen minutes discussing the tests Rachel needs them to run and possible treatment plans.

Rachel loves her little human beings, but she really hates it when they have to come back to her.

When Quinn wakes, Rachel is just finishing up replying to Marley's email, and she's rewarded with numerous kisses to her face. She kisses Rachel's neck, lips moving down below her collar until Rachel has to push her away and remind her they're in public.

Quinn just laughs, leaning away and stretching her arms in the air. "We're going on a date the second you get back," she declares.

Rachel raises her eyebrows. "Is that just because you don't want to look like a complete horn dog?" she asks in amusement.

"I'm classy," Quinn says, grinning. "I have to get calories into you before we burn them all off."

"Going for the ten, hmm?"

"I don't think we'd manage it the first night," Quinn says, and she sounds so serious, as if this is something she's given significant thought. "We'd have to build up to it." She leans forward, gently kissing Rachel's lips. "I have months to make up for, you know? We are going to have so much sex; you won't be able to walk properly for weeks. Fuck. For _months_."

"If you're trying to provide me with incentive to get back to New York faster, it's working," she says.

Quinn's smile is positively blinding. "I can hardly wait."

* * *

When Quinn leaves, Hiram tells Rachel, "I wasn't sure I was going to like her, but I do."

Rachel almost laughs. "Yip," she muses; "it's kind of a superpower she has."

"You're going to have to go back soon," Hiram points out. "I love having you here, Sweetheart, but there's a woman waiting for you in New York, whom we both know would love nothing more than to build a life with you."

The truth of his words is a little terrifying, but still heartening. There's comfort to be found in the knowledge that Quinn is waiting for her; that Quinn is ready to take these steps towards a real relationship with her.

"I know," Rachel finally says, because she does.

It still doesn't stop her from taking another two weeks to settle her mind and wrap her head around what it's going to mean when she does get back to New York. Back to the hospital. Back to their people.

 _Quinn's_ people.

Rachel expects things to be a little rocky in the beginning, especially if she and Quinn intend to be public with their relationship. The mere thought of it gives her slight anxiety, but she's come to accept that Quinn is worth it. She's always been.

It takes a further two weeks to decide she's ready to return to New York, and then another full week actually to land at LaGuardia. She didn't mention her arrival to anyone - especially not Quinn - and she has to force herself to stop by her own place to drop off her bags before she heads to Quinn's.

She takes great pleasure in being able to surprise the blonde woman, which she ends up doing rather spectacularly. Quinn is already in her pyjamas when she answers the door, wine glass in hand, and Rachel can barely contain herself. She throws her arms around Quinn's shoulders, forcing her backwards, and she's just aware of the door slamming shut behind her.

Quinn lifts her off the ground and spins her around in her little foyer, and they share a laugh that sounds like a release. "You're here," Quinn says in a bit of wonder, and Rachel can feel her breath against her skin.

Rachel nuzzles her cheek. "Did you not believe me when I said I was coming?"

Quinn laughs again. "Using my words against me, I see."

"God, I missed you."

Quinn leans back just far enough to be able to kiss her, and it's really a miracle she's able to hold onto her wine through the next few minutes.

And Rachel used to think reunions were overrated.

They eventually break apart and Quinn says, "Want some wine?"

"Not as much as I want you."

"Baby," Quinn groans. "Please just say yes to the wine, so I can count it as a date, and then I can take off your clothes."

Rachel looks at her, tiny smile on her face. "Okay."

Quinn smiles something like relief, and it's an expression that shifts to pleasant smugness by the time she's managed to get Rachel to a truly commendable _five_ some hours later.

* * *

Rachel's return to work happens on a Tuesday, and Quinn meets her disgustingly early in the morning with a hot coffee, a soft kiss and a tap to her ass that really equates to _you're going to be okay, I love you,_ and _I'll see you later for lunch_.

Rachel doesn't stop in to see her father. She hasn't spoken to him since the first day she tried to resign, and he's since stopped trying. Instead, Rachel spends her morning in the Paediatric Ward, reading up on her patients and just spending time with them.

There are new ones she needs to meet and learn about, and then there are the patients she left behind and have found again. Those are the most heartbreaking ones, and she makes sure to spend the most time with them as possible.

What she quickly learns, though, is that Quinn has been spending a lot of time with the little people. They all talk about her, which warms Rachel's heart and merely proves Rachel has finally made the right choices when it comes to her love life.

It hasn't always been easy. She dated only boys in high school and college, very rarely actually being alone.

Then there was Maria, and Enid.

Tom, Lara, Brian, and finally Jesse. He was supposed to be the last, her one and only. He was smart and funny and a fellow surgeon and they worked perfectly until they just didn't anymore. Marriage ruined their relationship, which they both agree on, and the divorce was as quick and painless as it could be while still being an end to something meant to last a lifetime.

There was a string of one-night-stands that followed, and then there was Finn. It was always going to be a disaster, which Rachel knew before she even got involved with him.

The end was ugly, and the aftermath was uglier. Quinn arrived to stir things up, as well, and Rachel has been on edge ever since.

Well, she _was_.

Not anymore.

Now, she feels settled, even a little content. She knows there's so much she still has to work on: individually and with Quinn, but she's willing and she's ready and she's in a better place than she's been for a long time.

As a result, she makes plans to have lunch with Quinn, only to be dragged to a table by Jesse who forces her into a chair and says, "Please tell me your love life is going better than mine."

Rachel has to force herself not to smile as she takes out her phone to text Quinn about the change in their plans. "What's happening with you?" she asks, sending an additional heart emoji to soften the blow. "I thought you and Sam had things sorted."

Jesse's eyes widen. "I never said anything about Sam," he deflects.

"Jesse," she says, chuckling. "You're kind of useless when it comes to him."

"Well."

"Well what?"

"Apparently, I haven't expressed my affection properly," he says with a shrug that is too casual actually to be. "He's been seeing Blaine these days. He claims it's not serious, but I - "

"He wants to go public?"

"I just think he's tired of hiding."

Rachel can't help thinking of Quinn. The two of them aren't exactly hiding, but there's a mutual desire to keep their relationship as private as possible. Just to save them from the scrutiny.

"Which is fine," Jesse adds a beat later. "He could no more force me out of the closet than I could force him back into it."

Rachel meets his gaze, understanding settling over her. "You like him."

Jesse doesn't respond to the statement, which says a lot more than words ever could. "Tell me about you," he says instead. "Are you as miserable as I am?"

If he'd asked a few weeks ago, her answer would be different, but today she allows herself a smile. "I'm doing better," she tells him truthfully. "I - I started seeing a therapist again when I was in Ohio, which was really helpful."

Jesse's features soften. "That is very good to hear," he says. Then: "But you're also getting laid, aren't you?"

Without her consent, Rachel actually blushes, a memory of Quinn writhing on top of her flashing through her mind.

"Holy shit, you are?"

Rachel shakes her head, smile widening. "A lady doesn't kiss and tell."

"Bullshit."

Her smile just grows, and she looks down when her phone buzzes. It's a text from Quinn: a sad face emoji and the words, _I had such naughty plans for us. Does this mean I'll have to see to them myself?_

Rachel groans at the thought of Quinn... taking care of herself, and she has the sudden urge to find Quinn right this instant.

"Ooh," Jesse says. "Did she just text you? Is it something dirty?"

Rachel immediately locks her phone, cheeks flushed. "I need to go."

"What? No," he protests. "You can't leave me for sex. That's not how the bro code works."

Rachel is already getting to her feet. "I am in the blissful honeymoon phase," she tells him. "If she wants me, whenever she wants me, what kind of crazy person am I going to be to say no?"

"You don't have to say yes every time," he points out, which Rachel already knows, of course. Quinn would accept her response either way, which is really the beauty of her love.

The thing is, though, Rachel _wants_ perhaps more than even Quinn does.

* * *

Sometimes, Rachel is caught off guard by the stark difference between Quinn, her gorgeous and lovely maybe-girlfriend, and Dr Fabray, the hard, professional and enviously brilliant surgeon. At times, it is impossible to think of them as the same person beyond the fact Rachel gets turned on by them both.

Rachel spends the first month back adjusting to her new schedule. She delegates more, giving Marley more responsibility. She's just so eager and determined to pursue the speciality, and Rachel seems to have found her desire to teach once more. She has more patience now, which she's willing to accept is Quinn's influence.

The sex, yes, but also just having her around. Being able to talk to her. Just knowing she's there, constantly in her corner. It's amazing, really, how having the support of someone she loves has transformed the way she approaches her work.

She won't tell Quinn that, of course, because she's already grown an entirely too big head. It was already huge before, but now she's on this mission to torture Rachel into a sex coma, which, yeah.

While Rachel takes a small step back from running her Paediatric Ward single-handedly, Quinn seems to settle into Trauma that bit more. She seems comfortable, determined in a way that's positively sexy.

It's obvious to anyone looking that she's staying, and Rachel can't help the relief that brings her. Quinn is building a life, here, in this hospital, with these people. With Rachel.

Quinn takes the reins of her Trauma Centre, with LeRoy's reluctant blessing, and the results are astronomical. It was already a respectable Centre prior to Quinn's arrival, but she takes it to national-best levels, and Rachel has never been more proud.

Or in love.

It's really just a lot of good feelings.

It's a lot of everything Rachel wishes she managed to experience before Quinn, just so she would be prepared. Because they're in this relationship and it's serious, and Rachel didn't really anticipate what it would be like to have a Quinn Fabray completely faithful and devoted to her.

They talk about it, sometimes; about Quinn's previous aversion to relationships. Mainly in the dark of night, when Quinn is sleepy and comfortable, arms wrapped around Rachel in one of their beds.

One night, Quinn says, "You make me happy," and Rachel feels her heart grow in her chest.

"Am I the first one to?" she asks, because she needs to know.

Quinn nuzzles her cheek, puffing out a breath. "No."

"Oh?"

"There was a woman, once, a long time ago," Quinn explains. "My intern year, actually."

Rachel knows that year was trying for Quinn, particularly in relation to Beth.

"She didn't know about Beth until she did, and it wasn't... pleasant." She shakes her head. "After that, I didn't mention her to people. Not many really understand what she and Marcella mean to me. And then, as soon as I created that disconnect, it became harder to let people know me and love me the way a relationship demands."

"I haven't forced you into anything, have I?" she asks, suddenly worried.

"I love you, Rachel," Quinn says. "I also love myself more now than I ever have before, and I know you think you're all powerful, but I generally don't do things unless I want to."

Rachel laughs softly. "Powerful?"

"I would do anything for you," Quinn reveals. "It is both terrifying and freeing, but I love what we have and I love what we're building."

"This is what you want?"

"I've never wanted anything more," Quinn reveals. "Besides the good health and happiness of my people, of course, but I'm really the most selfish when it comes to you."

That's it, isn't it? This relationship, it feels like it's just theirs, and Rachel isn't going to let it go easily.

Not for anything.


	3. Chapter 3

**III**

What hasn't seemed to have changed, unfortunately, is that Quinn Fabray is Quinn Fabray, and nearly everyone she comes into contact with falls a little bit in love or lust with her.

Rachel isn't generally a jealous person. She's grown out of those teenage woes, but something about watching nurses and other doctors fall over themselves to get Quinn's attention just irks her.

It makes her want to claim Quinn, publicly and wholeheartedly, but she's not going to be _that_ person. It's just irritating having to see it and keep her mouth shut, knowing the woman is actually hers in every way that counts.

Rachel doesn't bring it up to Quinn until she can't handle it anymore, expecting Quinn to find her annoyance amusing. Quinn rather agrees with her, saying, "I want to wear a sign around my neck telling people to back the fuck off." She groans softly, resting her chin on Rachel's shoulder as they prepare to leave the hospital for the evening. She's standing entirely too close, but Rachel isn't concerned with keeping her away.

Anyone could walk into the Attending Lounge any second.

"I'm taken," Quinn murmurs, teeth nipping at the skin of Rachel's neck. "I have this amazing, gorgeous, sexy woman in my life, and I don't need anyone else." Her breath is hot and full of purpose, and Rachel doesn't even notice until Quinn's hands are under her clothes and against her skin.

"Quinn," she breathes, slight warning in her voice.

Quinn laughs against her, the front of her body pressing closer against her back. She's warm and soft and perfect, and Rachel thinks she would give in to Quinn's silent request if they didn't hear voices approaching. Quinn kisses her cheek and then steps away, drifting towards her locker just in time for Santana and another Attending, Dani, to walk into the Lounge.

Santana moves towards Quinn immediately, throws an arm around her shoulders and says, "We're meeting Jones and Evans for drinks; let's go."

Rachel can see the tension in Quinn's body, her reluctance and desire to go conflicting. Because they both know Quinn could go, but it would be without Rachel. They both know Quinn would want her there, but -

"Are you celebrating something?" Rachel finds herself asking, and three pairs of eyes turn towards her. Quinn looks a little confused, Santana looks almost daring, and Dani just appears curious.

"Not quite," Santana says. "I mean, besides the fact none of us actually lost patients today."

"Santana rocked a triple bypass," Dani says, resting a hand on Santana's shoulder. "And Mercedes basically brought life into the world today. Twice."

Rachel looks at Quinn, and Quinn looks at Rachel, and something passes between them.

"You should join us," Quinn says, gently enough that Rachel knows she'll be able to reject the offer. "It's my understanding you didn't lose any patients today, either."

Rachel makes sure not to look at either Santana or Dani when she agrees, which is really how she finds herself sitting beside Quinn in a weirdly quiet booth at a bar the hospital staff frequents.

Quinn's hand rests on her thigh the entire time, keeping her present as Mercedes and Sam tell a story about a pregnant woman they had to track down when she escaped from her room. Rachel can tell they're not quite comfortable with her around, but she sticks it out until Quinn exaggerates a yawn and initiates their departure.

It's not some kind of relationship confirmation, but they all know Rachel wouldn't stay without Quinn, so they leave, return to Rachel's apartment and make love for hours.

Quinn says, already practically asleep, "It could have gone worse."

Rachel laughs unexpectedly, tucking herself into Quinn's side. "Reckon we can get them to come around with increased exposure?"

Quinn is already asleep, not hearing Rachel's response, but it's basically what ends up happening. Whenever Quinn gets invited somewhere, Rachel sometimes tags along, and both she and Quinn's people grow more comfortable with having her around. There's so much left unsaid, and Rachel wonders if they expect something from her.

An apology of some sort.

She doesn't get the opportunity to do something about it until they all meet up for drinks for the fifth time in a month, and Quinn has to go to the bathroom. She whispers a pained apology, because she _knows_. She knows what could happen leaving Rachel alone, but Rachel is aware enough to know Quinn wouldn't leave her if she wasn't desperate.

So, Quinn goes, and Rachel says, "We have maybe four, possibly, five minutes, so you should probably say what you need to say before she gets back."

She must catch them all off guard, because nobody says anything for a full thirty seconds.

Rachel sighs, and then says, "I have no excuses, of course, and only apologies to offer. Explanations, maybe, but I don't think you want those either. An assurance, perhaps, that I'm done wilfully hurting her. I can't make promises it'll never happen, because I'm only human, but I - I know how it feels to be without her, and I can't - I don't - "

When she stops speaking, it's because her words aren't making sense in her own head. All she really wants to say is, _I love her, I love her so much, I'm in love with her and I want to spend the rest of my life with her, I can't stand the thought of hurting her again and I would break myself before I did it again_.

Maybe they see it in her eyes, because Sam reaches for her hand, covering it with one of his own and gently squeezing. He doesn't actually say anything, which is a mercy, and he lets go just before Quinn returns, sliding into her seat once more and whispering into her ear, _you look fucking stunning, and I can't wait to get you alone and devour you._

Which, yeah, everything is infinitely worse and so much better from that moment on.

* * *

While Rachel has managed to mend fences with some of Quinn's closest friends in the hospital, there's still Beth to consider.

 _And_ all of Quinn's various admirers.

The most potent, Rachel comes to realise, is Robyn Hendricks. Rachel doesn't really notice her until she just does.

Well, Jesse is the one to mention to her that the woman manoeuvres her way into many of Quinn's surgeries, and she volunteers a lot of her time in the Emergency Room.

"To be close to Quinn," Jesse tells her. "It's kind of obvious. And sad."

Rachel doesn't put too much stock into Jesse's observations until she finds herself in the Emergency Room later that afternoon to see Blaine for a consult and finds Robyn blatantly flirting with _her_ girlfriend right in front of everyone. She half-listens as Blaine talks, eyes tracking the hand Robyn attempts to rest on Quinn's arm, the blonde artfully moving out of reach.

"Rachel," Blaine says, knocking his foot against hers. "Are you even listening?"

She drags her eyes away from Quinn. "What?"

Blaine follows her gaze. "Oh."

"Nothing new, huh?"

"Quinn is very popular," Blaine concedes, and then winces, expecting an adverse reaction to the sound of Quinn's name. It's surprising when Rachel just sighs. "Something wrong?"

"No," Rachel says, too quickly. "I mean, I don't know. I just - I guess it makes me uncomfortable."

"Why?"

"Because."

Blaine gives her a curious look, but makes no further comment.

Rachel just watches and slowly seethes as Robyn devotes too much of her focus on Quinn. She's not even a surgeon. What is she even doing here? God.

Quinn notices Rachel's stare a few times, and she looks just as helpless. A little amused, too, because Rachel is positively raging inside. She knows she shouldn't be. Robyn doesn't know, sure, and Quinn is very obviously reluctant, but the entire situation just makes Rachel uncomfortable.

And determined to prove that Quinn is hers.

She doesn't do it in public, but the sex they have that night is explosive and possessive enough to leave marks all over Quinn's body, marking and claiming her in a way she'll be embarrassed about at another time.

Quinn, of course, absolutely loves it.

In the morning, Quinn covers up only the really obvious ones, but anyone paying attention will understand the clear meaning that Quinn is off limits.

Rachel takes far too much pleasure watching Robyn back off, and she receives a sneaky high-five from Jesse and a nod of approval from Santana.

She ignores her father's look of disapproval, much like she ignores so much else.

* * *

In general, Rachel doesn't spend a lot of time working with her father. He's usually wrapped up in administrative work and his specialty is actually in Neurosurgery. So, the chances of working together are extremely low.

Until there's a mass trauma, which means all hands on deck.

Quinn is in her element when Rachel arrives at the Emergency Room with Marley at her back. They're already in full-flow, buses arriving non-stop, paramedics rolling in gurney after gurney of victims of the aftermath of a burst pipe that developed into a sinkhole. It could be considered chaotic, but Quinn has a system that works, and Rachel and Marley immediately get put to work on working on traumas classified as orange.

She's distinctly aware of Quinn in Trauma Room One, working endlessly, but she doesn't pay too much attention until she's being called in to assist on a teenage boy with massive internal bleeding and requires emergency surgery.

With Quinn.

And LeRoy.

It's a disaster just waiting to happen, because they all know they've been carefully avoiding one another, and now they're in this high-stress situation that's bound to bring up some things better left to the dark.

Quinn, of course, is a professional, and they have this patient they have to save. She's brilliant and perfect, and Rachel knows she's going to choose this woman every day of her life. They work well together, which Rachel has always known, but it's the first time their rapport is on display for her father, who is ready and waiting to relieve the pressure on their patient's brain.

Sometimes, they win, and sometimes they don't.

Rachel is immensely relieved young Christopher pulls through in the end, though his recovery is going to be long and difficult. Today, they win, and she gets a relieved smile from Quinn and a very purposeful, "I'll inform his family," from her father, which grates on her nerves in a way that makes her mouth say, "Actually, I'll do it."

And then she's gone.

Rachel hears, later, that LeRoy and Quinn got into an argument shortly after her departure, and Quinn comes home to Rachel with the words, "We should open our own hospital." She sounds more serious than she has before, and Rachel stops replying to her emails to look at her. "I mean it."

"Quinn."

"A Paediatric hospital," Quinn continues, as if Rachel hasn't just said her name. "You and me, we can - God, we could do so much."

"Quinn."

"Just think about it," Quinn tells her. "Not today, not any time soon, if you don't want, but I - we could do it, and I wouldn't want to do it with anyone other than you." She kisses Rachel soundly, nibbles at her bottom lip, and then moves right out of the room like the hurricane she is.

It's only when Rachel hears her shower turn on that she gets the feeling Quinn has been thinking about this idea for longer than she's let on. If she had to guess, she imagines it's been since Beth. The way Quinn talks about it, though, it's almost as if she's too afraid to reveal just how much thought she's actually put into the idea. As if she's almost embarrassed by her dream.

Rachel abandons her emails, switches to her web browser on her _iPad_ and starts researching just how a pair of female doctors would even begin to open their own hospital in New York City.

* * *

There is a point, within their fourth month together, that Rachel gives up on the pretence she isn't hopelessly and embarrassingly in love with Quinn Fabray.

She wakes on a Wednesday morning, Quinn's arms around her body, and she knows, without a doubt, that this is the life she wants for forever. The idea isn't new, but it's the moment it takes root in her mind and bleeds into every interaction from that moment forward.

Rachel makes breakfast for them, a shared berry smoothie that they drink on their way to work, Quinn always just within reach, even on the subway. Rachel doesn't let her get too far away, and she holds onto her hand extra tightly when they arrive at the hospital. Quinn casts a curious look her way, but she must sense Rachel's intent, and the two of them walk into the front foyer together.

Everyone is aware of their relationship by the end of morning Rounds, and Rachel tries not to think too much about it that their colleagues are once more privy to their personal life.

It's different now, though, because Quinn makes it obvious by lunch time that this relationship they're trying is the real deal. She arrives at the cafeteria while Rachel is waiting in line with Marley, and wraps her arms around Rachel's waist from behind, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Before, everyone _knew_ it was about sex, but it's different now, and that's something they're going to know now, as well. Quinn stands with her and Marley, chats quietly about one of the patients that came in having swallowed his girlfriend's car keys to stop her from leaving him, and then buys Rachel's lunch for her, like they're in high school and the two of them have just announced they're going steady.

Rachel feels giddy afterwards, dropping into her seat once Quinn has parted with another kiss to her cheek. She's forced to endure Marley's questions and Jesse's bold teasing, but she doesn't even care.

She's happy.

* * *

And then Beth comes for a visit.

Quinn mentions her in bits and pieces, little anecdotes about how she's handling high school and her various crushes. Rachel's aware only of what Quinn tells her, but nothing of what she's told Beth. Most times, when Quinn goes to see Beth and Marcella in Long Island, she goes alone.

Now, Beth is coming here, intent on spending the first part of her Winter Break with Quinn in New York, and Rachel is forced to initiate a conversation she absolutely doesn't want to.

Rachel asks, "Does she know about us?" rather pointedly over coffee a few days before Beth's arrival. It's almost a date, the two of them carving out time in their busy schedules and meeting up at a café near the hospital.

Holiday time is crazy time, and they get far too many people coming in on the daily from the strangest accidents.

Quinn slides her foot across the floor and hooks her calf around Rachel's, just wanting to touch. "Does she know we're together, you mean?"

Rachel flushes a little, because Quinn is the potent mixture of overwhelming and understated when she's acting like this. "Yes."

"She does."

Rachel blinks. "How long has she known?"

"Some months now."

It's a surprise to Rachel, and it must show on her face, because Quinn laughs softly and reaches out to tuck a lock of hair behind Rachel's ear. "She's the one who encouraged me to come see you in Ohio when I was debating it," she reveals, and _that_ really is a surprise to Rachel.

"Quinn," Rachel says, forcing the blonde's gaze on her. "Please can you tell me everything I need to know when it comes to you and me in a relationship, and Beth."

For a moment, Quinn just stares at her, and then she nods, suddenly solemn. She leans forward and drops the volume of her voice. "Marcella and I talk about this a lot," she starts; "how we might have confused Beth by having me around the way I was in the beginning."

Rachel listens intently.

"Marcella is only fourteen years older than me, you know," Quinn says. "And we ended up forming this odd little family. I don't really have regrets about much, but I do wonder if we didn't make it more clear to Beth the role I play in her life."

Rachel hears what she's not saying rather clearly. "She saw you as her second mother?"

"She hated everyone I dated," Quinn says. "She was convinced whoever I was with would take me away from her. It was worse when I came out, because - "

"She wanted you to be with Marcella."

Quinn licks her lips. "When she first got sick, I was around a lot," she explains. "Marcella was a mess, and I had to be - I had to be strong for them both. And then she got better, and I wasn't around as much again. And the second time, the same thing, and it - she started to equate having me around to being ill, and we had this massive fight when she was fourteen and I was dating this woman, when Beth basically told me she would _want_ the cancer back if it meant I would be around again."

Rachel's eyes widen, a small gasp escaping her lips.

Quinn hums, sipping her coffee and forcing her gaze to remain on Rachel's face. "We started going to family therapy after that." She reaches for Rachel's hand, linking their fingers. "She has a better understanding of the role I play in her life, and I do too."

"Where do I fit in?" Rachel asks, needing to know.

Quinn drags her hand closer, and then lifts it up to kiss her knuckles. "What have I told her, you mean?" she says, and Rachel nods. "That I love you. That you make me the happiest I've ever been. That I want to spend the rest of my life with you; marry you and have babies with you and save the world with you."

Rachel just stares at her, because it's really the first time she's talked about their mutual future beyond their promising careers. "You want babies with me?" is what her brain makes her say, and Quinn's mouth spreads into a slow smile.

"I do," she says. "Do you want them with me?"

"God, yes."

Quinn grins at her, eyes delightfully playful. "I wouldn't worry too much about Beth, then. She's going to be fine."

"You sound very sure of it."

"All I know is that she wants me to be happy," Quinn says; "which I am when I'm with you."

* * *

Beth sits Rachel down on a Tuesday and asks, "What's your favourite type of cake?"

Rachel blinks in surprise, because it's the last thing she expects. She's been very careful around the teenager, only coming over to see Quinn when the blonde insists.

Right now, Quinn is in the shower, and Beth is looking at her expectantly.

"My favourite cake?" she asks stupidly.

"Quinn mentioned it's your birthday tomorrow, so I thought I'd bake you a cake."

"Oh," she says. "I - you don't have to do that."

"I want to."

Rachel is going to pick her battles wisely. "Okay, umm, I suppose I'm a fan of fruits," she says. And then smiles. "Berries."

Beth giggles. "Should have guessed as much," she says. "Okay, I think I can come up with something. There's nothing you're allergic to, is there?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing."

Beth gets to her feet. "Awesome." She carries her cup to the sink, rinses it and then puts it in the dishwasher. "I'm going to head to the store now to get what I need. Did you need anything? I know Quinn wanted some of that weird green tea."

Rachel winces, and Beth laughs.

"It's for you, isn't it?"

Rachel shrugs. "Have you even tried it?"

Beth pulls a face, and then grins. "Maybe I should make a green tea flavoured cake," she teases, and then doubles over at the look on Rachel's face. "Don't worry, I won't. Maybe. Who knows?" She does a little skip as she leaves the kitchen, and Rachel sits perfectly still until she returns, messenger bag slung across her chest. "I don't think I'll be long," Beth says; "but probably long enough that you could probably join Quinn in the shower."

Rachel sputters, suddenly getting the feeling Beth is going to have far too much fun messing with her for the foreseeable future.

Beth winks at her, and then slips out of the apartment without another word. Rachel sits for a further minute, contemplating if she should worry over Beth's comments. If it's some kind of test, Rachel's determined to pass it the way Quinn seemed to pass Hiram's.

Which is really why she gets to her feet and goes to join Quinn in the shower.

* * *

LeRoy texts Rachel a happy birthday message in the late evening of her thirty-fourth birthday, after Quinn has spoilt her rotten with gifts and food and up to eight orgasms, and Rachel makes a decision in the moment.

"That had to be nine," Quinn says, head popping up from beneath the sheet, mouth glistening.

Rachel runs a hand through her blonde hair, shifting it off her face and smiling easily. "Eight."

Quinn groans, and then starts to move down again.

Rachel reaches for her, stopping her movement. "Honey, wait," she says, and Quinn does. She suddenly looks so young, her eyes bright and her hair wild. It comes easy to Rachel to say: "Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes to opening our own hospital," Rachel says. "Yes to doing this massive thing with you. Yes to _everything_ with you."

Quinn stares at her in something like disbelief. "Really?"

Rachel nods. "Really."

Quinn lunges at her, kissing her fiercely and practically winding her. "I have so many ideas," she says between kisses. "And I know where we can get the money. There's this place that I was - "

Rachel tugs on her hair. "Quinn," she says, and Quinn stops speaking. "Tomorrow. We can talk about it tomorrow."

Quinn nods once, and then drops her head, already resuming her self-set mission.

She hits an impressive eleven by the time Rachel actually passes out.

* * *

Christmas Day is spent in Long Island with Beth and Marcella, and it goes a lot better than Rachel could have ever imagined. She's nervous at first, because Marcella Vega is important to Quinn in a way Rachel doesn't understand until she gets to see them together.

It suddenly makes sense why Beth would have grown up confused.

It also doesn't help that Marcella is beautiful, and she very obviously loves Quinn in a way that would make Rachel uncomfortable if she weren't so certain of Quinn's love.

Beth is a little shit, as usual, and the four of them spend most of the day in the kitchen, drinking wine - well, not Beth - and generally just getting to know one another.

Marcella asks Rachel questions about things unrelated to medicine, and they end up spending an entire hour talking about musical theatre. Rachel mentions she had dreams of performing on stages one day, but -

Rachel glances at Quinn, and then says, "My biological mother was a performer." It's no secret to any of them that Rachel is partly adopted, but she still feels Quinn's warm hand on her back. "She came back into my life around the time I was preparing for college, and it - I got caught in this desire to follow in her footsteps that ultimately ended in my wanting nothing to do with performing at all when she decided she actually wanted nothing to do with _me_."

Marcella casts a look at Quinn, who comes up behind Rachel and hugs her waist, resting her chin on Rachel's shoulder.

"I'm fine," Rachel says with a slight roll of her eyes. "We talk sometimes, but I - " she stops and looks at Beth. "You're pretty lucky, you know? Not many people get to know exactly who they are in the way you do."

Beth looks a little teary, and Rachel prompts Quinn to go hug her, which really ends up as a group hug that lasts until the timer goes off on Beth's pecan pie. They break apart, wipe their eyes, and then spend the rest of the day indulging in all the best parts of Christmas.

Quinn is uncharacteristically touchy throughout the day, quiet in a way that lets Rachel know she's thinking about something very seriously. She doesn't get to hear what that is until Quinn sneaks her away to what was once her bedroom - and sometimes still is - and says, "Move in with me."

Rachel freezes where she's perusing over Quinn's various high school awards on display, and then turns to look at Quinn. "Excuse me?"

"I want to live with you," Quinn continues, hands clasped in front of her. She's visibly nervous and it is adorable. "Not really in my apartment, though, so maybe I phrased it wrong, but I - I just realised that, one day, I actually want to host Christmas with you. In our home."

"You want to live together?"

"I want a lot of things, but, yeah, let's start with that."

"Is this basically your way of asking for a forever Christmas present?" Rachel asks, her heart beating really, really fast. "Me?"

"Yes."

Rachel takes slow steps towards her. "You're serious."

"I am very serious," Quinn says. "Though, I should probably mention that I would for sure be asking you to marry me if I weren't so terrified you would say no."

Rachel isn't even going to touch that with a ten-foot pole. "You're going to move in with me," is what she ends up saying.

Quinn's smile spreads across her face slow enough that it counts as several different expressions. "I'm going to move in with you."

"Because I have the better bed."

"But I have the better couch," Quinn points out, reaching out for Rachel's waist once she's close enough. She draws her closer, into her space. "I just - I want to be with you in every way."

Rachel asks, "Where's Beth going to sleep?" because her place might be more comfortable, but it also has just the one bedroom to Quinn's two.

"On the couch," Quinn answers easily. "In the bathtub."

Rachel lifts herself onto her toes and kisses Quinn's cheek. "I think, if we're planning for forever here; then we should probably find a place to fit all our current family."

Quinn audibly swallows. "And our future one?"

She kisses Quinn's lips next. "You're the one who first mentioned you want babies."

"Look at me," Quinn murmurs; "mentioning things."

"Who _are_ you?"

Quinn laughs, this soft sound, and Rachel hugs her close, just breathing her in.

"Yes," Rachel says against Quinn's ear.

"Hmm?"

"Yes to everything," she says, and Quinn's eyebrows rise at the tone of her voice. It's not the first time she's said the words, but they suddenly mean something different now.

"Everything?" Quinn asks, voice shaking.

Rachel's hand slides into the back pocket of Quinn's jeans, privately and quietly claiming her. Then she says, "We're getting Beth a bedroom."

Quinn hums in agreement. "Of course, my love."

* * *

On New Year's Eve, Quinn tells her to get dressed up, they're going out, and Rachel finds herself entering a gala evening for the prestigious Spencer Foundation by the time nine o'clock rolls around.

Rachel doesn't even have the words to ask Quinn how they managed to get invitations to this particular event, and she doesn't think she would get a suitable response if she did. Quinn gets them champagne, keeps their arms linked, and then walks them through the great ballroom with no actual destination in mind.

"This is where we're going to get our money," Quinn murmurs, just as an older woman spots them and makes her way over, arms spread and a smile to match.

"Lucy," the woman exclaims, and Quinn visibly winces.

"Please don't," Quinn mutters, but the woman ignores her and pulls her into a tight hug before kissing both her cheeks.

"I have been waiting all my life for you," the woman says. "Let me look at you. So beautiful, dear. More and more every time I see you." Her smile is blinding, and it widens impossibly when her attention drifts to Rachel, who is very obviously on Quinn's arm. "And, who is this?"

Quinn's cheeks are flushed when she says, "This is Dr Rachel Berry, my colleague and girlfriend."

Hazel eyes widen. "You've finally brought a partner to meet me?"

"Please don't embarrass me."

The woman turns to Rachel. "You are stunning, dear," she says. "I love this blue on you. I do think a deep red would suit you better, but I can definitely see why Quinn is attracted to you. You're the embodiment of her type."

"Oh, my God," Quinn groans.

"You should have heard all her celebrity crushes," the woman pretends to whisper. "All of them brunette, and small."

"Please, God, make it stop."

Rachel just looks between them, so confused by the entire interaction. "I - "

The woman gasps. "Lucy, dear, does she not know who I am?"

"You haven't allowed me to introduce you."

"You should know better," the woman says. "I don't shut up when I get excited, and meeting the first woman you've brought to one of these things is cause for excitement."

Rachel watches as Quinn takes a deep breath and smiles tightly. "Rachel," she says. "This is Anne Spencer." Wait. Spencer, as in from the Spencer Foundation? "My grandmother."

Rachel stares at Quinn, basically shooting daggers at her, because _what the hell_? Quinn's smile is all innocence now, but Rachel pinches her side where Anne can't see them.

Also, who in the world is Lucy?

"I assume you're here for a reason?" Anne says, eyeing them curiously.

Quinn leans forward and drops the volume of her voice. "We need to network," she says, almost conspiratorially.

Anne's eyes light up. "You have plans?"

"Great, gigantic, monumental plans," Quinn reveals.

"You can't fund it yourself?"

Quinn glances a little nervously at Rachel, which is really more confirmation that there are quite a few more things Quinn has failed to mention about her identity. "I don't think that would be a good idea," she confesses. "Not if Rachel and I intend to be equal shareholders."

Anne looks between them. "You want good people?"

"Only the best."

Anne visibly straightens, her facial expression shifting into something severe. "Well, then, dears, let's get to work."

Work.

The same way Anne slips into some persona, Quinn does as well. She carries herself differently as Anne moves them from person to person, introducing Quinn as Dr Quinn Fabray, her granddaughter and Head of Trauma at New Budapest Hospital, and Dr Rachel Berry, Quinn's partner and Head of Paediatrics at the same hospital.

It is fascinating and slightly terrifying to witness Quinn turn on the charm around all these rich men and women until their eyes are actually dilated. Quinn explains they have a project they're trying to put together that they would really like to speak with them about, and all sorts of business cards are exchanged.

Networking.

Rachel tries to keep up as best she can, but it's apparent this isn't quite her world. She can talk medicine well, and she even manages to throw in some knowledge about Broadway a few times, but Quinn is the clear leader in this little duo, and they emerge armed with the numbers of and promises of time from numerous big players and high rollers.

Anne says, "I think that was a success," with just ten minutes to go until midnight. "You're very charming, sweet Lucy."

Quinn's cheeks tinge pink again, and Rachel knows she's going to tease her mercilessly for all of this. "Thank you," she says sincerely. "I can't even begin to describe how much this could mean for what we're trying to accomplish."

"When will you tell me?" Anne asks. "Am I on this potential list of investors?"

Quinn smiles a little indulgently. "I told you we wanted only good people."

Anne looks positively offended, and Quinn laughs at her expression.

"You're obviously at the top of the list."

* * *

They kiss at midnight, right in the middle of that ballroom, with all their potential investors looking on around them, and only Rachel is worried.

Quinn very casually says, "We're not taking money from people who wouldn't accept us," which even Quinn must know is limiting. "It's not worth doing, if we can't do it the right way."

Quinn even tips her back when they kiss for the second time, and it's beautiful. Rachel still has endless questions, and she wants them answered as soon as possible.

It helps that Quinn initiates their departure just ten minutes into the new year, just when the champagne buzz has reached its peak. Anne gives them a look of approval, absently commenting _good, keep them guessing_ , and then she wishes them well and encourages Rachel not to be a stranger.

Just.

She has so many questions.

Quinn answers the first without Rachel even having to ask it when she says, "Anne's my mother's mother," on their way out of the ballroom, the two of them stopping to retrieve their coats. "She's the only member of my family who's been supportive of me, and who I am."

Rachel listens intently.

"I didn't meet her until after I moved to New York," Quinn explains. "She wasn't the head of the Spencer Foundation until then, considered too eccentric and a heart-thinker by the rest of her family. She's made them more money than they even know what to do with."

"Does she not get along with your mother?"

Quinn snorts, guiding them through the long sweeping halls, heading for the main exit. "My mother married into my father's family, and I think he still rues the day Judy chose _him_ over her wealth and legacy. She gets nothing, and neither does my older sister. Just me and my significant other and potential dependents."

"Babies."

Quinn smiles at her. "I'm sorry I didn't mention it earlier," she says. "I - not many people know at all. It doesn't really fit with my aesthetic."

"Your aesthetic?" she asks, actually laughing. "You mean, you don't want people to wonder what kind of millionaire would walk to the grocery store in threadbare sweats?"

Quinn rolls her eyes. "I'm not - " she starts to say, and then stops. "Anne wants me to take an active role in the Foundation, which I haven't been willing to do while I've been establishing my surgical career."

"And now?"

"I think, if we're going to do this and do this well, then they're the best people to have on our side," Quinn says. "At least they'll be people we can trust."

"They'll be you."

"Exactly."

Rachel holds onto her that bit tighter, because she's learning far too much about this person she's sure she's going to be spending the rest of her life with. "Who's Lucy?" she asks, just when they reach the front foyer of the hotel.

"I - " Quinn starts and stops. "Lucy is me. It's technically my first name."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"That is something you purposefully haven't mentioned," Rachel points out. "Why?"

Quinn doesn't immediately respond, and she doesn't actually get a response until they're on the subway headed to her place, their fancy dresses hidden by their thick coats.

Rachel huddles close to her, tucked into her side. They're standing near the door, because the car is full of people in celebration. It's loud and weirdly pleasant, but leaving the party seemed like a good idea until they were on their way home.

Quinn says, "I left Lucy behind when I left my family behind," right into her ear, so she can hear over the noise. "Anne just calls me that to annoy me."

"I think it's cute," Rachel reveals.

"You think kidney stones are cute."

Rachel laughs, tilting her head up to kiss Quinn's mouth, which gets a very significant cheer from the people around them. She's flushed red when she pulls back, slightly alarmed by the noise, and Quinn isn't faring any better.

Quinn glances around, laughing softly, before she kisses Rachel again. For longer, and for a louder cheer. It's good; perfect in the way Rachel wasn't sure she would ever get to experience.

Rachel is going to hold onto her with everything she has.

* * *

The days are good.

Better than Rachel thinks they deserve, but she allows herself to feel the happiness Quinn brings to her life. Professionally, things are going well, and her personal life has never felt so unburdened.

She's just waiting for everything to fall apart.

The new year brings with it several changes to their lives and a lot more plans. They actively search for a new place to live, all while putting together a comprehensive business plan for when they start meeting with their potential investors.

Quinn mentions, a little offhandedly, that the hospital's Human Resources Office scheduled contract negotiations with her, given her first full year with them is up. She's expected to sign on for an extended three years, on a higher salary. She'll be given more responsibility and more funding, and it would be a lucrative offer if Quinn weren't already putting her eggs in another basket.

It does make them question if they're doing the right thing for a full two minutes and fourteen seconds, before Quinn shakes her head and says, "It'll give me more time to work on our project."

"We should really come up with some kind of code name," Rachel tells her, relaxing further into her bed, Quinn's body warm behind her. "Confuse everyone."

Quinn hums, nuzzling into her. "Santana is going to kill me."

Rachel stiffens, because Santana _is_ definitely going to kill her. Then she laughs. "If you think Santana's going to lose it, just imagine what my father's going to do."

Quinn's breath is warm against her when she says, "Bring it."

* * *

News about Quinn's decision not to sign her new contract isn't meant to be public knowledge, given that the Human Resources Office values privacy, but LeRoy Berry makes sure everyone knows from the massive bust-up he has with Quinn right out in the open.

Rachel hears about it from _everyone else_ , because she was in surgery when it happened - which was probably by design - and she's forced to field her own questions by acting as if she has no idea what anyone is talking about.

At least she gets to put her dormant acting skills to use.

Of course, she understands why her father would be up in arms about losing Quinn, the doctor, because there's no denying her brilliance. Anyone would want to hold onto her. Certainly, Rachel spends her days holding onto Quinn, the woman.

One check of her phone tells Rachel that Quinn is in one of the conference rooms, probably hiding out, and Rachel makes the mistake of heading straight there and walks into a very tense atmosphere between Quinn and Santana.

She freezes, tries to back out of the room, but Santana snaps at her to shut the door and come inside, because it concerns her.

What follows is ugly.

Santana says, _are you insane_ and _you're about to leave your job, and for what_ and _she's just going to break your heart again_ and _you're making a massive mistake_ and _don't come crawling back when she screws you over and leaves you with nothing but shreds of your heart_.

It's when Santana turns her ire on Rachel that Quinn finally speaks, and her voice is sharp and edged in a way that lets them all know that Rachel is off limits. "Do _not_ say what you're about to say," she says. "This is not about Rachel, or anything else. This is about me and what I want, and what I want is something different, something _better_ , and I've finally found someone who wants the same things I do."

Santana glares at her, defiant. "If she doesn't ruin you, then your pride will." She steps forward. "You are not a God, Quinn."

Quinn's jaw clenches, but it isn't enough for her not to flinch.

"It is not your job to save everyone."

Here, Quinn falters for the first time, and Rachel can only wonder what else Quinn hasn't mentioned to her.

Quinn stands perfectly still when Santana storms out of the room, pushing past Rachel rather forcefully and then slamming the door behind her. It leaves the pair of them to stare at each other in silence for an extended amount of time.

Rachel clears her throat. "Tell me what I need to know," she says.

"What?"

"I haven't asked," Rachel says, stepping forward. "I've just made assumptions based on what you've told me, but I don't know _why_ we're doing this."

"Why?"

Rachel takes more steps towards her. " _Why_ are we about to embark on this thing that could potentially derail our professional careers? I need to know."

Quinn looks away, jaw tense. "There's no - I don't have - "

"Quinn."

"Santana and I went to medical school together, as you know," she finally says. "But we got into different surgical programs, and I did my residency in Boston while she came here."

Rachel knows this, of course. Her own residency was also done in a different hospital in New York, coming to this one when her own father was promoted to the position of Chief of Surgery. They're really all so young; early in their actual careers.

"When Beth got sick the second time, it was worse," Quinn says. "We brought her here, because it was closer to Long Island and Santana swore they had the best care."

Rachel knows she's going to learn something she doesn't want to, because, if Beth was here, and she had a recurring spinal tumour, then that means -

"Your father was one of her doctors."

Okay.

That explains a lot of the animosity she's witnessed between her father and girlfriend. God, that explains so much about her father's decisions when it comes to her and Quinn.

"He didn't think Beth would make it. He wasn't even willing to try surgery." Quinn's hands clench into tight fists. "When I asked him why, he told me he wasn't a God; that it wasn't his job to save everyone, and that he wasn't going to attempt a surgery he couldn't guarantee the outcome of. He told me that I wasn't a doctor, so I wouldn't understand." Her eyes are wet. "He wasn't even willing to _try_."

"Quinn," she breathes.

"I knew, in that moment, I would never be that kind of doctor, and I - I told myself I would work hard to give parents the kind of care they need when faced with such impossible situations."

"You want a hospital that tries."

"I want a hospital filled with _doctors_ who _try_."

Rachel still has questions, but she's also received more insight into a lot of the things that drive her girlfriend. "Beth survived," she says.

"She survived," Quinn confirms, and then doesn't elaborate further.

Rachel sighs. "So... my father wasn't happy, huh?"

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Do you know what's worse," she says; "he didn't even remember me. Or Beth."

Rachel feels inexplicably enraged by that piece of information, and she can only wonder what it must have been like for Quinn to interview for her job here, with the man who essentially wrote Beth off and then forgot about her.

"Baby," Rachel murmurs, reaching out for Quinn, fingers on her cheek. "We're going to do this, and we're going to be the kind of doctors I wish my father could have been for you, Marcella and Beth."

"It's not going to be easy," Quinn says, always so realistic and pragmatic.

Rachel kisses her one cheek, and then the other cheek before finally dragging her into a lingering kiss to her mouth. They end up kissing for entirely too long, right there in that conference room, and they stop only when Quinn says, "You know, I don't think we've actually had sex in here."

"God, you're obsessed," Rachel says, unable to stop her laugh. Because Quinn _is_ obsessed with finding them all these different rooms in the hospital to defile - proverbially. On-call rooms and supply closets and even in a trauma room this one time.

"Baby," Quinn says, her voice low and suggestive. "I'll be gone in a few weeks; we have to work our way through this hospital in that time."

Rachel definitely shouldn't accept that explanation. It's honestly a terrible idea. They're two professionals in their thirties, for goodness' sake. It's a childish mission Quinn's set for them.

"Baby," Quinn says again, and then they end up being able to cross off that particular conference room from Quinn's mental list.

* * *

Things have been tense in the past, but they rise to a lofty level as they barrel towards Quinn's birthday. She claims she doesn't want anything special, but Beth calls Rachel a week before and basically tells her she needs to make it memorable.

Quinn is turning thirty-four, which isn't really all that special - though, Rachel will argue every birthday is special - so it could slip under the radar very quickly. Beth and Rachel aren't going to let that happen.

Beth bakes a cake - red velvet, which is Quinn's favourite - and Rachel makes sure they both get the day off. Which really means they spend the entire morning in bed, and out of bed, on the carpet, on the kitchen counter and in the shower, and Quinn is still smiling dopily when the two of them meet Beth and Marcella for lunch.

Beth takes one look at them and screws up her face in disgust. "You guys are so gross," she says. "Seriously. It's been _months_. Get it out of your system already."

Quinn just laughs, allowing Beth to drag her into a warm hug.

"Happy birthday," Beth tells her, quiet into her ear. It feels private, so Rachel looks away, greeting Marcella with a quick hug before the woman can wish Quinn, as well.

They're already seated when Quinn tells Beth, "I'm going to tease you to within an inch of your life when you find your person."

Beth scoffs. "I'm not going to be as gross as you two," she declares.

"Just you wait," Quinn vows. "When you're stupid and happy, I'm going to remind you of this moment and rub it in your face." She grins. "But then, I'm also going to be very happy for you, because, God, this good feeling is everything I want for you."

Beth looks at her, and then at Rachel, before looking back at Quinn. "Okay."

"Okay."

Rachel feels Quinn's hand on her leg, squeezing gently, and she turns towards her. There's this look in her eye, something new and perfect, and Rachel leans over to kiss her for what feels like the hundredth time just in this day.

Instead of Beth grousing over their display, she rather snaps a picture of them and comments, "I'm definitely showing this at your wedding reception. Everyone has to see how disgusting you two are."

Quinn's grip tightens on her leg, and Rachel can only wonder if she's thinking the same thing she is. Quinn's very casually alluded to marriage a handful of times, but this confirmed acceptance of how Beth views Rachel's role in Quinn's life offers a very particular green light for them both.

The look they exchange holds a lot of meaning, but no words are said. This time, when they kiss, Beth does complain, and it is a beautiful thing.

* * *

"I love you, but I don't think I can stand near you during the staff meeting," Jesse says, coming up beside Rachel.

She barely looks up from the chart in her hands. "You know, you tell me you love me far more now than you ever did when we were married," she points out.

"I love you more than I did then," he responds, leaning against her. "Did you hear what I said?"

"You're abandoning me."

"What? No." He puffs out a breath. "It's just that I can't stand the tension around you. And, I mean, Big Berry is probably going to be glaring daggers at Quinn, and I'm certain Santana's stare could set you on fire if you're not careful."

Rachel almost asks why he'd be concerned with Quinn, but then she knows her girlfriend will probably be standing near her. "You're basically abandoning me."

"Don't put it like that."

"But that's exactly the way it is."

He sighs. "Fine. I'll stand with you, and soak up all the animosity being sent your way." He groans dramatically. "At least tell me what you did. I need to live vicariously through you."

She glances at him. "Things still not going well with Sam?"

"I just - I can't give him what he wants from me."

"Why not?"

"What?"

Rachel tilts her head a little to the side. "Are you worried about coming out in the hospital, or is it something else? Because, there are a lot of queer doctors not only just in this hospital, but even just in the city."

Jesse looks a little stumped, and then he says, "I was married to a woman."

"And I was married to a man," she points out. "Now, I'm regularly having amazing, spectacular sex with a woman."

His eyebrows shoot up. "Just how regularly?"

She ignores him. "My point is that your past doesn't matter," she says. "What you feel for Sam doesn't negate what we had. I hope you know that."

"I'm not that sentimental," he says, but it sounds forced, and she reasons she's hit the nail on its head.

"I do love you, Jesse, but we didn't work for reasons beyond our perceived sexualities, okay?" She pats his arm. "You know I like both men and women. Maybe you do too. I loved, _loved_ you once, but that was a long time ago, and I've moved on. It's time you did, too." She rises up and kisses his cheek. "Whatever's holding you back from Sam; it has nothing to do with me, and we both know it. Get it together and figure out what you want. I managed to do it, and I'm the happiest I've ever been."

Jesse stares at her for a long time. "I don't know if I like this Rachel who goes to therapy and has her life figured out," he mutters.

"Don't forget that I'm also having a bucketload of sex."

He groans. "How can I?" he asks. "You mention it every five seconds and I swear it looks like Quinn wants to devour you every time she looks at you."

Rachel saves him by _not_ saying it's definitely because she does.


	4. Chapter 4

**IV**

Over the weekend, Rachel and Quinn visit three potential hospital sites and two potential apartments. In the city, the most they can do is find an existing building and renovate it, or be forced to move further out of New York.

"It's something to consider," Rachel tells her as they're leaving their second site. It could work, but neither of them was really feeling it. The location is a positive, but the amount of work to get it ready is overwhelming. They'd take years to open. "Moving out of the city."

Quinn glances at her, blindly reaching for her hand. "Is that what you'd want?" she asks. "To live out of the city? Or to commute?"

Frankly, she'd want neither, but they're also still looking for a new place to live together, and it'd be the smart thing to make sure it's near enough to their work site.

"Just something to think about," Rachel tells her, and then they move onto their third site.

She is both relieved and deeply surprised when they both walk into what was once a nursing college and just _know_ they've found the place. It's six stories of unused space in the city, a little rundown from how long it's been vacant. There's already infrastructure they would need in a hospital, and a lot of freedom to adjust what they don't.

The realtor mentions the place has been empty for three years, after the college moved to New Jersey. She also mentions the price has been reduced three times already, and there's space for negotiating. She also reluctantly reveals the building may or may not be haunted, which is why it hasn't been snatched up. It truly could be prime real estate.

Quinn looks at Rachel with a certain gleam in her eye, and Rachel just knows this is going to be the home of their lifelong project.

* * *

They find their new home four days later, and Quinn sets everything into motion rather quickly. She seems excited; energised in a way Rachel has rarely seen. She has this idea she's managing to put together, building a business plan and putting together a presentation for potential investors.

Rachel chips in whenever she can, mainly on design and functionality, but they both know this is really Quinn's brainchild, and Rachel is her forever support.

She'll really be anything Quinn needs at this point, and that is a lovely, terrifying thing.

* * *

When Quinn's contract runs out, she's required to serve out notice of one month or pay back her salary. She could and she would, but she'd rather spend another month transitioning her prized Trauma Centre to Blaine's capable hands.

That's what she tells Blaine, at least, but Rachel knows she really just wants more time to be able to defile this hospital by having sex with Rachel in every place imaginable.

Quinn even has a written list on a note on her phone, and Rachel threw an actual shoe at her when Quinn showed it to her. Still, Rachel embarks on Quinn's silly little mission, saying a constant mental _fuck you_ to her father whenever Quinn's body is pressed against her, hands and tongue on and inside her. All over his prized hospital.

They almost get caught three times, and it's really a miracle they don't end up permanently scarring some unsuspecting orderly with their antics.

All Rachel knows is that she's going to miss this woman when she leaves, and her lunch hours are going to get significantly more boring.

Well.

Until then, she has Quinn with her in every way and she has zero plans ever to take that for granted.

* * *

They move into their new place the first weekend after the purchase goes through.

Rachel insists they can do it themselves, with some help from their friends, but Quinn disagrees. She claims it's too much work, and she won't do that to Beth, Marcella and Jesse.

Rachel is aware enough to know Quinn and Santana still aren't necessarily on speaking terms. Quinn's also mentioned that Sam isn't too happy with her, either, but they're at least working through everything.

In the end, hiring a company to facilitate moving two separate homes into a single one is a brilliant idea on Quinn's part, because they both get called into the hospital for a massive trauma, and they're on their feet for reasons other than unpacking for more than ten hours.

In the end, it is both overwhelming and a relief to be able to go home together, to their shared home. _Together_. Rachel is beyond exhausted, almost dead on her feet, leaning on Quinn as they head home. She can't wait to crawl into bed and sleep for a hundred hours.

She almost forgets they're going some place new. She almost forgets they're going to a home they've never slept in before, surrounded by walls and decor that'll be new to them.

She almost forgets until they get to their new front door and Quinn unlocks it with her brand new key, before she does the thing and scoops Rachel up into a bridal carry.

Rachel shrieks, arms wrapping around Quinn's neck. "Quinn!"

Quinn laughs this glorious, wonderful sound. "I would regret it if I didn't," she says.

"Some warning would have been nice," Rachel mutters, but she's still smiling.

Quinn rolls her eyes as she pushes open the door with her foot. "Welcome home, my love," she whispers, and then they walk into their home.

Rachel's suddenly giddy at the thought, and her heart stutters a little in her chest. This is forever, isn't it? All these steps they're taking; it's leading them in only one direction.

"Straight to the bedroom," Rachel tells her, kissing Quinn's neck.

"For sleep?" Quinn asks, and there's a hint of hope in her voice.

Well.

Rachel definitely isn't that exhausted anymore.

As if they would spend the first night in their new home _just_ sleeping. How silly.

* * *

Quinn's departure from her job at the hospital coincides with the first anniversary of Finn's death, and Rachel is not okay. She doesn't go into the hospital at all, choosing to remain wrapped up in their bed and in Quinn's arms.

Quinn knows - she definitely knows - and she spends the day catering to Rachel and everything Rachel doesn't even know she needs. She constantly wears this hesitant look on her face, though, and Rachel realises when they're in the middle of making a late lunch that Quinn is almost expecting Rachel to push her away rather than pull her closer. The same way she did the year before.

Instead, Rachel holds on that bit tighter, hands always reaching out to touch her. Because Quinn is real and she's still here, and Rachel knows they've been through heaven and hell in the last year. She just - she's not letting go.

Not this time.

Never again.

It's what Rachel tells her, and Quinn watches her in silence as she basically stumbles through her disjointed declaration. Most of the time, it's been Quinn assuring Rachel she's in it for the long haul, given her previous thoughts on relationships, but this is one of the first times Rachel has reciprocated this way.

One of the first times she's looked Quinn in the eye and voiced her desires and intentions beyond what Quinn has asked of her.

In the end, it all boils down to three words: _yes to everything_.

"Everything?"

Rachel takes a breath, hands reaching out to hold onto Quinn's as they sit across each other at their kitchen table. "Do you think it'll be easier to do this hospital thing if we were married?" she asks, and Quinn visibly drains of colour.

It makes Rachel smile. She knows Quinn wants marriage, but she's not willing to push it. Rachel is the one who's been divorced, and, truthfully, she wasn't sure she'd be willing to go through it all again.

"Yes," Quinn eventually says. "Investors find more security in partnerships that are perceived to be permanent."

"Beyond you, I'm definitely not planning on doing it again."

Quinn shifts, crease in her brow. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I don't know if it's romantic to put it this way, but I may have already filed for a marriage license and made an appointment for us."

Quinn blinks. "Baby, that is _so_ not romantic at all," she comments. And then laughs. She laughs almost uncontrollably, before she stops abruptly, says, "Holy shit, we're getting married," and then launches herself across the table.

Later, breathless and sated, Quinn bends over the edge of their bed and digs around under its base. Rachel just watches her in amusement, also out of breath. Honestly, she thought she was a relatively fit person before Quinn, but the woman has been a serious and near-constant test of her stamina.

Quinn eventually emerges with a triumphant shout. She's as naked as the day she was born, the sheet barely covering her legs, and Rachel could stare at her for the rest of her life.

Right now, though, she's staring at the little box in Quinn's hands, mouth hanging open. "Is that - "

Quinn's cheeks are beet red when she says, "I've had it for a while." She holds out the box. "I bought it the morning we - I bought it exactly a year ago."

When Rachel had gone to the hospital and Quinn had stayed in bed. When Rachel had continued to ignore Finn's attempts to contact her and Quinn had apparently gone out to buy an engagement ring.

Quinn opens the box, revealing a princess cut ring. It's definitely not modest, and actually draws a small gasp from Rachel. "Baby," Quinn says with a slight smirk. "I'm a millionaire."

It's really the first time Quinn has confirmed her financial status, but Rachel barely pays attention as Quinn removes the ring from the little blue box.

"I'm not actually going to ask the question," Quinn says, reaching for her hand; "just in case you change your mind."

"I won't."

Quinn slides the ring onto her fourth finger, and then kisses her knuckle. "This feels crazy, but it also feels right. I - God, I can't wait to be married to you. I'd do it today if I could."

Rachel leans in close to her, fingers in her hair. "Maybe not today," she says. "I really don't feel like getting out of bed and actually putting on clothes." She kisses the corner of Quinn's mouth. "I also think you'd want your family to be there, wouldn't you?"

Quinn is too distracted to answer, but Rachel already knows what her response would be. Beth would kill them if they were to do something that monumental without her present. Rachel already worries enough about her perceived role of taking Quinn away from her, so she's definitely not going to perpetuate that thought by actually contributing.

And, really, not even the promise of marriage could get her out of this bed right now.

* * *

They get married at the end of the week, with only Marcella and Beth in attendance.

Rachel comes out of a surgery late Friday afternoon, meets Jesse in the Attending Lounge and gives him an unexpected hug. He hugs her back, voicing his surprise, but she doesn't have an explanation for him. She's grateful for him in many ways, and she'll tell him all about it some day.

On her way out, she encounters Santana, who still hasn't quite warmed up since Quinn's departure. Rachel receives a glare for her troubles, which makes her feel inexplicably sad. She's about to marry the woman's best friend, and she doesn't even know.

Pride can be a terrible thing.

Rachel can't stop herself from saying, "You should call her," before Santana can walk away. The woman pauses. "Tonight," Rachel adds. "You should definitely call her tonight." With that said, she turns and heads right out of the front doors, her destination in mind.

She's a little nervous, but excited at the same time. Her dress is already waiting with Quinn at the court, and the mere idea of getting to experience this - albeit for the second time - with Quinn has her heart racing. She glances down at her left hand where her ring would be sitting if she hadn't just left the hospital. It's now in her bag, and she's still getting used to the idea of wearing it permanently after today.

She didn't even wear Jesse's ring all that much.

As expected, Quinn is already waiting with Marcella and Beth, but Beth doesn't give them any time to greet each other before she's bustling Rachel into a bathroom and practically shoving her in a stall to change.

Rachel does it quickly, her nerves kicking up a gear. Her dress is simple, just white chiffon hanging on her body. Quinn's in a tailored white suit in contrast, and Rachel can't wait to get back to her.

When she's finally dressed, Beth touches up her makeup and says, "Thank you for making her happy."

Rachel already knows she's going to be overly emotional all afternoon, but she didn't expect it to start so soon. "Oh, Beth."

"And, thank you for keeping her here," she adds a beat later. "I - sometimes, it felt like she was just waiting to leave, go somewhere else. But something changed when she met you. Like, she was finally ready to settle." Her own smile is a little shaky. "So, thank you."

Rachel tugs her into a hug, and the two of them have to spend a few extra minutes fixing up their makeup.

They just about make their appointment, Quinn reaching for her hand and not letting go through all the proceedings.

It's quick, painless and wonderfully easy. Quinn says, "I do," and Rachel says the words right back. They skip saying their own vows, saving those for a private moment, and then they're pronounced wife and wife - partner and partner - and it is _everything_.

They get dinner after, Quinn's hand still warm in hers. It still feels a little surreal by the time Quinn is indulging in lobster and listening to Beth tell a story about her lab partner. It feels good, though, and she keeps glancing at Quinn's face, having to remind herself this woman is now her wife.

It's during dessert that the call arrives, and Quinn looks surprised and pleased to see Santana's name show up on her phone's screen. Quinn looks at her, asking a silent question, and Rachel just gestures to the phone.

Quinn answers a moment later and then excuses herself, returning a full eight minutes later. She's wearing an easy smile that hasn't managed to fade all day, and Rachel loves her. Loves her so, so much.

She startles when a flash goes off to her left, and she turns to see Beth bringing down her phone. "It's written all over your face," Beth says as if it's explanation enough. She takes another when Quinn is back in her seat, and Rachel is secretly glad for all the snapshots of this day.

Quinn kisses her a moment later, another flash, and Rachel suddenly knows that she could make every wrong decision in her future, but choosing this woman will always be the most important right one.

* * *

Later, when they should be sleeping but definitely aren't, Rachel says, "I sent my father an email."

Quinn rolls onto her back, stretching her limbs. "Which one?"

"Uh, both," she says, frowning. "Separate ones."

"Telling them what?"

"That I got married."

Quinn sits up quite suddenly, her eyes wide and panicked. "You told them in an _email_?"

"Yes?"

"Rachel," she squeaks, but more likely shrieks. "You told your parents - the men who _raised_ you - that you got married, to _me_ , in an _email_?"

"Honey, I know you just left work and all, but I didn't expect your very sexy mind to atrophy this quickly."

Quinn stares at her for a moment, and then laughs. "Shut up," she says. "But, like, seriously, is that really the best way you want to be starting our marriage in regards to your parents?"

"Do you really care what LeRoy thinks?"

"Fuck no."

Rachel leans forward. "But you don't want to look bad in Hiram's eyes?"

"Baby, I _just_ managed to win him over," she says with a whine, her lips in a pout. "Now, I'm going to have to do it all over again." She lies back again, huffing. "It's exhausting."

"You've met him once," Rachel points out.

"And I wasn't even your girlfriend then," Quinn reminds her, eyes seeking hers. "Now, I'm your wife."

Rachel grins at her, shifting closer until she's practically lying on top of her. "You're my wife," she says, pressing kisses onto her cheek and trailing her lips along her jaw and neck. "My _wife_."

Quinn tilts her head back, sighing happily. "You do realise Beth is already planning an official reception for us, right?"

Rachel just giggles against her skin. "I don't mind," she says. "Something our friends and family can attend." She nibbles at the skin over Quinn's collarbone. "And we can have cake."

Quinn places a hand on her shoulder and pushes her back just far enough to be able to look into her eyes. "Well," she murmurs, glancing down their bodies as they're pressed together. "I can have my cake right now."

It's lewd and totally uncalled for, but Rachel laughs, because this woman is insatiable. "Yeah," she says. "Okay." Then she rolls onto her back and allows Quinn to indulge to her heart's desire.

* * *

Monday morning, walking into New Budapest Hospital as a newly-married woman, Rachel feels strangely untouchable. On top of the world, almost. This morning, she left Quinn asleep in their marital bed, and she'll get to return home to her once her day is over.

She's literally living the dream.

Then she meets her father, who is very obviously waiting for her, and her pleasant life-dream dulls a little. She internally sighs, shifting the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder. "Morning, Dr Berry," she says, feeling a little petulant. Her initial rage has mellowed into something indifferent. As far as she knows, this man is just her boss and nothing more.

"Dr Berry," he returns, and then visibly pauses. " _Is_ it still Dr Berry, I mean?"

She resists the urge to roll her eyes. And she thought _she_ was being petulant. "It is still Dr Berry," she says. "Which it shall remain, as it did with Jesse."

"So, it is true?"

"I wouldn't send that email as a joke, Daddy," she says, shaking her head.

"After," he says from behind a clenched jaw. " _After_ you were already married."

She smiles at the memories of spending her entire weekend wrapped up in Quinn Fabray. "It's not as if I needed your permission," she informs him. She raises her eyebrows. "Did you expect us to ask for your blessing?" She steps forward. "Would you have even given it?"

He opens his mouth to respond, but Rachel holds up a hand to stop him, because she really doesn't want to hear what he has to say.

"I don't actually care," she says. "I told you, out of a courtesy. Things are different now."

"Obviously," he says. "We never used to be like this. Before her."

Rachel meets his gaze. "You're right," she says, because he is.

Before Quinn, things were different between her and her father. Professionally and personally. There's no getting away from that.

"And, frankly," she adds; "I prefer it this way."

* * *

She wouldn't say her day gets worse from there, but it doesn't get any better.

Work is work, which it's always been. Jesse has a Sam crisis, and Rachel almost loses her patience with Marley when the young doctor almost makes a life-threatening mistake.

Santana still gives her the stink-eye and her one scheduled surgery for the day gets bumped off the list when a 'priority' patient is admitted.

It's just a day.

And then it turns into even _more_ of a day when she finds herself sneaking a nap in one of the on-call rooms. She's on the top bunk behind the door, which is why they don't immediately notice her when they enter the room.

All Rachel hears is Dr Robyn Hendricks say, "I just don't get what Quinn sees in her," and she knows she won't be able to sit through whatever this is about to be. They close the door and sit, and Rachel contemplates her best move at this point. She can just pretend to be sleeping, or she can -

Another voice she doesn't recognise says, "Don't worry too much about it. You know Quinn. She'll get tired of her in no time."

"And then what?" Robyn asks. "The woman isn't even working here anymore."

"Now you're just making excuses," the other woman says. "I told you that you should have gone harder at her while she was still here." She laughs, high-pitched. "Maybe then she would have stayed."

Robyn snorts. "You reckon my vagina's that powerful, huh?"

"Gotta be more than Rachel's," the woman comments. "Quinn didn't stay for her. You think she doesn't put out enough?"

"From what I've heard, Quinn is as insatiable as they come, so I don't see how the emotional wreck could possibly keep up."

Well.

Robyn isn't completely wrong about that, in some regard, but Rachel still feels affronted. She keeps up just fine, thank you very much, _and_ she's in therapy, excuse you.

It's when Robyn says, "God, I wish I'd had her just once," rather dramatically that Rachel prickles with an anger she wishes she wasn't feeling. "Everyone else has. Why does _Rachel Berry_ get to be the one who actually gets to keep her?"

Rachel sits up quite suddenly, startling both women enough that they actually gasp, hands flying to their chests. "It's because I want more than just sex from her," Rachel says, voice layered with intense loathing. She's graceful as she drops from the top bunk and glares them down. "It's because I love her, and she loves me, so I would really get it into your little skulls right now that Quinn does not, has never, and will never want you. Got it? Good."

Rachel straightens her spine, gathering her few belongings. "Now, I'd appreciate it if you'd get both our names out of your mouth before we have a serious fucking problem. Are we clear?"

Both women just stare up at her, and Rachel feels wired and testy. It's not okay, but she doesn't bother waiting for a response as she storms out of the on-call room. She reaches for her phone without thought and dials Quinn's number, smiling in relief when Quinn answers with a mumbled, "Baby, I'm napping."

"I just wanted to tell you that I love you," she says into the phone.

"Okay."

Rachel chuckles, already feeling better. "That's all, go back to sleep, I'll see you tonight."

Quinn mumbles something unintelligible, and then hangs up. Rachel stares at her phone's screen for a moment, her Home Screen a picture of herself and Quinn from their wedding day that Beth ended up snapping.

Because they're now married. Quinn loves her. Quinn said _I do_ to her. They're planning for forever. Nothing else matters.

She tells herself those few things enough times to get through the rest of the day relatively unscathed, still caught between revealing the extent of their changed relationship status by openly wearing her wedding rings and just not.

She wants to, of course, but she doesn't want further scrutiny. She won't stand even more people like Robyn Hendricks and whoever that other woman was having fodder to talk about when it comes to them.

Well.

It can be a tomorrow problem.

Right now, she has a home to return to, where she finds Quinn sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop open in front of her. The air smells wonderfully of their dinner, and she feels tears fill her eyes at being able to come home to a home-cooked meal from her wife, a kiss from her and that brilliant smile.

Quinn takes one look at her, and then tugs her into her lap, wrapping arms around her waist. She nuzzles Rachel's cheek, gently kissing the skin. "You smell like disinfectant."

Rachel chuckles lightly. "You used to smell the same way, you know?"

"I never noticed before," she muses, hold tightening around her.

"My stay-at-home wife," Rachel whispers, turning her head and kissing Quinn's lips. "I'm all for the independent career-driven working woman, but I am so turned on by you in sweats and an apron right now."

"Get you a woman who can do both," Quinn jokes, kissing her again. Her hands sneak under Rachel's shirt, fingers warm against her skin. "I made cottage pie, by the way."

"Mmm."

"And I scheduled three meetings next week," she says. "My love, are you ready for our debut as a force de médecin?"

Rachel creases her brow. "I don't think that translation makes sense," she says. "But, yeah, I'm ready." She rests her forehead against Quinn's. "I want out, as well."

Quinn stiffens, concern all over her face. "Did something happen?"

Rachel just shakes her head, not willing to get into it. "Just know that I love you," she says. "I'm also hungry and horny, and not necessarily in that order."

Quinn laughs, her joy so clear in her eyes. "Well," she says; "good thing I can help with both those things."

And so she does.

* * *

Hiram, at least, takes the news batter than Rachel initially thought he would. Only because it's her second marriage, he tells her. If there hadn't already been a big wedding the first time, it would be a different story.

Quinn is the most relieved to hear her other father-in-law doesn't also hate her. In another life, Rachel would argue that LeRoy doesn't actually _hate_ Quinn, but even she wouldn't believe it. He might appreciate the doctor she is but, personably, they just don't get along.

It's fine.

For now.

Rachel knows they'll have to sit together and work it all out at some point - she can't stand the thought of her future children not knowing her grandparents - but that's another tomorrow problem.

They have plenty enough to deal with today.

* * *

The three meetings go well, though Quinn grumbles about one of the men in meeting number two looking at Rachel a little too long to be strictly appropriate.

Rachel just laughs and kisses her cheek. "If I have to show a little cleavage to get us more money, I'll happily do it," she tells her, which gets a growl from deep in Quinn's throat. "It went well, though."

"They're definitely interested," Quinn agrees, leading them to the subway. They have an unscheduled lunch meeting with Anne Spencer that they both know they can't avoid and wouldn't even want to. "We just need... one."

"One?"

"We get one big player on board, and they'll all fall in line."

"Is that why we're meeting Anne?"

Quinn reaches for her hand, squeezing gently. "Partly," she says. "But I mainly just want to tell her I'm so fucking happy." She glances at her. "I have to tell her we're married, that I quit my job, and that I'm ready to take up my position in the Foundation in order to open an actual hospital in the city."

Rachel doesn't even understand why she's suddenly anxious. "That's... a lot."

Quinn must sense her apprehension because she stops walking immediately and pulls her aside. She ducks her head a little to look into Rachel's eyes. "It's going to be okay, you know," she says. "She's going to be happy for us."

"The marriage, or the fact you basically quit your job to pursue something that could take years to reach fruition?"

"Both."

Rachel doesn't necessarily believe her, but at least Anne is happy to see them when they arrive at the restaurant fifteen minutes later. They get hugs and kisses and a round of drinks, and Rachel relaxes just slightly as they get settled.

Quinn, thankfully, doesn't waste any time, and when she reveals that she and Rachel are actually now married, the first thing Anne asks is if there was a prenup. Rachel tries not to feel affronted, and Quinn glances at her before she tells her grandmother there was no need for such a thing.

"Good," Anne says, waving a hand. "It's a nasty thing, anyway." She sips her martini. "I had one with Paul, and he stayed far too long leaching my money instead of just getting it over with and murdering me."

Rachel's eyes widen, and Quinn chokes on her own iced tea.

"Of course, then, the poor sod went and had a heart attack," Anne continues as if she hasn't said anything alarming. "He never did learn how to take care of himself, you know?" She looks between them. "You two have definitely got it figured out: who needs men, anyway?"

Rachel exchanges a look with Quinn, who just shrugs.

Well.

It's going better than they thought it would.

Quinn goes on to explain their project, Anne shifting from lazy-afternoon to work-meeting mode in the blink of an eye. It is something rather fascinating watching her and Quinn talk, exchanging questions and answers about money, investors, plans and all those things Rachel knows she should be paying more attention to.

But these women seem to have their own language, even going so far as to finish each other's sentences. Quinn absently makes notes in a little Moleskin notebook as they speak, Anne passing on advice and mentioning which people Quinn should really target if she wants proper, good, no-strings-attached funding.

Anne says, "Come by the office on Monday morning, and we'll get everything set up," to Quinn, looking slightly emotional. And proud. The pride is unmistakable, and Rachel feels it too.

When the business part is over, Quinn excuses herself to the bathroom and Anne wastes little time sliding into Quinn's vacant seat. She reaches for Rachel's hands and says, "Thank you, dear," as if Rachel has done something monumental.

Rachel starts to deflect the gratitude, not even sure what it's for, but Anne just keeps speaking.

"She's honestly the happiest I've ever seen," she says, eyes a little wide in wonder. "I didn't think there would be a day, you know? Her family really did a number on her, and I've worried I wouldn't prove enough. That Beth and Marcella wouldn't prove enough. But now there's you, and it's as if you've unlocked this Lucy she's always wanted to be." She smiles. "This _Quinn_ , I mean."

It's overwhelming, hearing these words, but even she knows they have to be true. Enough people have expressed the same sentiment to her.

Anne says, "You've given her a home," and Rachel feels the words right to the tips of her toes.

Oh.

Yes, that's what she's given Quinn.

"I don't know what's going to happen with this project of yours, but I intend to do everything in my power to help make it real," Anne says. "I will not be another person who fails her."

Those words are heavier than anything, and Rachel nods solemnly. "I won't, either," she vows, because she's already been in the past, and she's not ever going to make the same mistakes.

They're still sitting like that when Quinn gets back and she gives them both a curious look. "What's going on here?" she asks, a mix between bemusement and concern.

"Just checking with dear Rachel here that you're treating her right," Anne answers breezily, returning to her own seat. "I hear there was no honeymoon."

Quinn glances at Rachel as she retakes her own seat. "We haven't had the time."

"Take a weekend to the Hampton house," Anne tells them. "Throw a party, if you must. Be young. Live life. Make the memories. Debauchery is best accomplished with an ocean view."

Rachel's mouth drops open, and Anne laughs when Quinn squeaks out an indignant, "Gran!"

Anne winks at Rachel. "She acts like a prude, but she's wild, isn't she?"

"Oh, my God," Quinn groans, turning beet red. She's actually giving off heat. "Please stop."

Anne relents with a smile, which is really the moment Rachel chooses to say, "The wildest," and she knows she's passed all the tests Anne could ever give.

* * *

It _is_ wild when they get home.

The way Quinn kisses her. The way she touches her. The way she practically worships her.

Quinn has been like this only once before. Christmas night, when she revealed her desire to live together. There had been something purposeful in the way Quinn touched her that night that's similar to the way she feels in this moment.

They've had the explosive, possessive sex plenty of times, but this feels different. It isn't possession Quinn is demanding of her. Quinn isn't saying _you're mine_ , but rather _I'm yours_ , and Rachel gasps when she figures out the difference.

Well, she gasps for a number of reasons, but it definitely isn't the first time Quinn has stolen her breath. It also won't be the last.

Quinn tells her she loves her with every part of her body, and she holds her close after they've exhausted themselves. After the night has gone quiet and their sweat has dried and their breathing has settled. After.

Quinn says, "Is that something you would want?"

Rachel's eyes are already closed, her forearm pressed over her eyes as she lies on her back and enjoys the pleasant hum in her muscles. "Hmm?"

"To visit the Hampton house?" Quinn says. "To have a wedding reception there?"

Rachel moves her arm and turns her head, her eyes blinking open. "I didn't even know there _was_ a Hampton house," she points out, and Quinn winces. Then, because she's curious, she asks, "Would we have needed a prenup?"

"No."

"We didn't even discuss finances," Rachel points out.

"What's there to discuss?" Quinn asks, visibly squirming. "What's mine is yours, and vice versa, right?"

Rachel rolls onto her side and looks right into Quinn's shifty eyes. "There are things we don't mention to each other, I'm aware," she says; "but I think I'm going to need to know just what I've ended up with when you tell me what's yours is mine, too."

"You definitely should have asked this before you signed that marriage certificate," Quinn points out.

"I don't actually care about any of it," she says, which is true. She has more than enough for the both of them if something catastrophic were to happen. "I would have married you if you were penniless. I just need to know, so I'm not caught off guard the next time we're at a Spencer Fondation fundraiser."

Quinn sighs heavily. "It's nothing monumental," she says. "There's a house in the Hamptons that belongs to my grandmother's family. We have access to it, so we can use it, if we want."

"There are other houses?"

"There are family houses, and then there are Foundation houses," Quinn explains. "The Spencer family is global, and so is the Foundation."

"Global?"

"Paris, Milan, London," Quinn lists. "Singapore, I believe. The Foundation is looking into doing work in South Africa. Cambodia. Sri Lanka. We do a lot of different things."

"And, what's your role going to be?" Rachel asks, and notices the way Quinn stiffens. "Quinn?"

"Besides working on our project?"

"Yes," Rachel says. "Besides that."

"Um."

"Quinn."

She clears her throat. "Well, um, you must know our project wouldn't actually be the first hospital the Foundation has been involved in." She looks away. "There are others. I - well, I helped with some, while I was training."

Rachel suddenly knows where this is going, and, oh, she already hates it.

"I'll be Head of Operations for the Medical Branch of the Foundation," Quinn reveals. "Which means I'll be working directly with the hospitals, clinics and medical centres... around the globe."

Rachel drops onto her back with a soft thump. She closes her eyes, wondering if she has a right to be annoyed. Irritated. Angry. A little heartbroken, maybe.

Quinn lifts herself up. "Baby?"

"You're going away."

Quinn licks her lips. "Just for a little while," she says. "And not immediately. I still have so much work to do, but I'll need to visit all the sites myself and assess what they need, but then I'll be home and stay home and work on the project and make you dinner every night and fuck you until you see stars right after."

Rachel puffs out a breath, trying not to be amused. "I hate you."

Quinn leans in close and whispers, "If we weren't already married, I'd ask you to marry me all over again."

"You didn't," Rachel points out.

"What?"

"You didn't ask me," she reminds her. "You've never actually _asked_ me to marry you; always just alluded to wanting to."

"Oh," Quinn muses. "That feels like a missed opportunity." She nuzzles Rachel's cheek. "Can I ask you right now?"

"I'm going to say no."

"That's what I was always afraid of," Quinn tells her. "That I would ask and you'd say no."

Rachel reaches her hand out to run her fingers through blonde hair. "Ask me," she whispers.

"What?"

"Ask me."

Quinn tilts her head to the side, her smile gentle and soft. "Rachel Berry," she murmurs. "My love. My dear. My lovely, adorable, kind, smart, sexy wife. My baby-saving, gorgeous, sensible - "

Rachel tugs on her hair. "Ask me," she says.

" - impatient," Quinn says, voice a little louder.

"Oh my God, will you just ask me already?"

Quinn kisses her cheek quickly. "Do you know the first thought I had when I met you?"

"You called me incompetent."

"I did not," Quinn laughs. "I definitely didn't use that word."

"You may as well have," she says. "You basically implied it. I had no idea who you were, some hotshot trauma god coming in to shake up everything."

"Little did you know what was going to happen," Quinn says with a grin.

"I knew nothing."

"I've always known everything," Quinn reveals.

"Oh?"

Quinn hums softly. "The day we met; that moment, I just knew I was going to marry you one day."

"Quinn."

"I promise you," Quinn says. "I knew it then, and I've known it every day since. But you wanted nothing to do with me."

Rachel just stares at her, because that can't be right. There's no way that can be true. Quinn was - she had -

Quinn just smiles a little knowingly. "I have loved you from the very beginning, Rachel," she says. "Loved you through everything we've been through, together and apart."

"You told me you don't chase people," Rachel murmurs. "But you chased me." Her heart rate slows in her chest. "I thought - I didn't - "

Quinn kisses the tip of her nose. "Will you marry me?" she asks. "Spend the rest of your life with me? Make me the happiest woman in the world? Will you do me the honour of agreeing to be my wife? Choose to love me for forever? Put up with all my craziness for days on end? Will you? Will you love me in return for the rest of my days?"

Rachel doesn't realise she's crying until Quinn kisses the tears on her cheeks. She wraps her arms around Quinn's shoulders and brings her against her body, holding her so close to her chest that it feels as if she could compress diamonds from the air in their lungs.

"Yes," Rachel whispers. "Yes, Quinn." She closes her eyes, the world slowing all around them. "Yes to everything."

* * *

When Rachel starts unapologetically wearing her wedding set on her finger, the first person to notice is sweet little Henry. He's in for a routine scoping procedure, just to make sure everything is still where it's supposed to be, and Rachel won't quite admit how much she's missed seeing him.

Of course, she's glad he's safely at home, healing as best he can, but there's an inevitability to his return based on his condition, and it is a horrible, terrible thing to be ware of. She stops by his bed before she goes to scrub in, and his eyes land on her left hand immediately.

Then he says: "She finally asked you," and Rachel doesn't really need another reminder that Quinn has wanted her and this life with her for so long.

Rachel doesn't mention that Quinn asked her technically only _after_ they were married. She does say, "Yes, she did."

"You said yes," he says, smiling that smile she loves. There still aren't any teeth, which makes it even better. It's not even fair he gets to be this cute. "She was worried you wouldn't."

There it is, again.

She sighs. "Of course I said yes," she says, managing a smile.

He beams at her. "I'm happy," he declares. "Are you happy?"

Now, _that_ is the simplest question to answer. "I am."

For once, she honestly means it.

* * *

Marley sees her rings next and squeals loud enough that Rachel's ears ring for a full five minutes afterwards. Jesse sees them when they have lunch together, and they're the talk of the hospital by the time she comes out of her afternoon surgery.

What seems to catch people off guard is the fact she's wearing more than just an engagement ring, and Rachel enjoys their confusion more than she should.

 _Did they get married?_ is the question of the day. _No, they couldn't have; there would have been a wedding_. She enjoys the secret; enjoys leaving them wondering.

What she doesn't enjoy is the constant glances at her hand, at her face, and all the murmuring that follows her as she moves through the corridors. She texts Quinn about it throughout the day, complaining to her wife about her difficult day, and ends up with the surprise of her life when Quinn shows up at the hospital just as her shift is ending with a smile that spells mischief and a glint in her eye that should alarm her.

It just brings her relief.

Quinn hasn't been back since she stopped working here, even though LeRoy assured her she would continue to have surgical privileges - especially if ever they needed an extra set of hands. Tonight, though, it's obvious she's come for one thing and one thing only: to blow the minds of every staff member in this hospital.

She does this in three steps.

First, she stops by the front desk and very purposefully asks Sunny behind the desk where she can find her wife, Dr Rachel Berry. Sunny sputters a little, checks the schedule, and then directs Quinn towards the Attending Lounge, as if Quinn has no idea where it is.

Second, she makes sure to bump into as many Attending doctors as possible and very pointedly says, "I'm seeing you at the next Spencer Foundation fundraiser, right?" and then feigns horror when they inform her they were not actually invited. It's kind of beautiful, really.

And third is when she sees Rachel walking towards the Attending Lounge and calls out to her with an easy, "Baby, there you are."

Rachel turns, visibly surprised to see her. "Quinn?"

"You weren't answering your phone," Quinn says.

Rachel just stares at her, because she's one hundred percent sure Quinn hasn't tried to call her today. Still, she says, "I've been in surgery."

Quinn has eyes solely on her as she approaches, but they're both acutely aware of all the people watching them in this moment. "Our appointment was bumped up," she says, and it takes everything Rachel has not to ask her _what appointment?_

"Oh."

Quinn looks both irritated and resigned. "Our fitting is now in half an hour," she says, and Rachel can only marvel at how well she's acting her part - whatever it is. "We don't have much time to get to the store." Here, she pauses, making sure people are definitely listening. "You know, Oscar de la Renta waits for nobody."

Even Rachel can't hold back her own reaction, her eyes widening, because - wait a minute. Wait. What?

Quinn grins at her, getting close enough to drop a kiss to her cheek. "Are you ready to go? We can't be late."

Rachel continues to stare dumbly for another few moments, before she nods. "Sure," she says. "Let me just grab my things."

Quinn just nods, letting her go, and Rachel rushes to gather her belongings from her locker. Eyes are on her, but she successfully ignores them in favour of getting her heart to slow its rate and her cheeks to lose their obvious red tint.

When she's ready, she manages to slip out of the Lounge, returning to Quinn and finding her talking to Santana. Rachel isn't sure how much they've talked before now, or even how much Quinn has told her about their lives and what they've been up to.

Santana does say, "So, I see you're flexing," and Quinn smiles beautifully, so it must not be all bad. "Oscar, huh?"

Quinn shrugs. "Only the best for my wife," she says, and she looks so pleased with herself when she says the words. "I want to give her the best wedding reception imaginable."

Well.

If anyone was confused about where they stand; they surely aren't now.

Rachel approaches them slowly, a little wary. Santana knows, and she doesn't look... angry or off-put by the news. Quinn must have had a long talk with her at some point, but - well.

Quinn catches sight of her and smiles even wider - if it were possible. "We really do have to go," she says, and Rachel appreciates how serious she's taking her roleplaying - Rachel should know that already, actually. "Ready?"

Rachel nods, reaching for Quinn's hand when she holds it out. Their fingers link as if they were built for each other, and Santana glances down at them with a quirk of her eyebrow.

"Flexing, I see," she says again.

Quinn glances at Santana and very purposefully says, "I am living my best life, and I think it's time everyone in this godforsaken place knows it." She looks to Rachel, tugging on her hand to draw her closer. "That just happens to be with this woman, and there's really nothing else to it."

Santana waves her hands. "Flex away," she says with a grin, and then looks at Rachel. Her smile softens, understanding settling over her features. Rachel doesn't think they'll ever truly see eye-to-eye about a lot of things - particularly when it comes to Quinn - but they both want Quinn to be happy, and that's the most important thing.

Santana doesn't say the word _congratulations_ , but it's in her eyes. Rachel doesn't say _thank you, I promise to love her forever,_ but Santana must hear it all the same.

* * *

Rachel doesn't expect there to be an actual fitting, so it catches her off guard when they leave the hospital and Quinn rushes her as if they actually do have an appointment to meet.

Which they do.

At Oscar de la Renta.

Where they both get measured and fitted for their potential wedding outfits, for the wedding reception Quinn and Beth are planning at the Hampton house.

Really, it is one of the most overwhelming hours of Rachel's young life, and she keeps looking at Quinn in disbelief and wonder, who looks back at her with obvious amusement. She tries not to think about how much money is going into all of this, because Quinn is now flexing, apparently.

There's this casualness to her now that makes her even more wildly attractive. It's literally in the way she carries herself these days, settled in her skin and her life and her projected career and her marriage in a way that looks and feels monumental.

Rachel would get married to her every day of her life if this is the Quinn she gets to experience for the rest of her life. It's no wonder everyone who meets her wants her in some way. Especially now, when she's found this purpose in her life beyond her career and her responsibility to her family.

This is Quinn at her happiest, and Rachel is so glad she gets to be a part of it.

* * *

Things at the hospital change for Rachel in a way she didn't expect. It's not necessarily bad, but it's not quite good, either, but she'll take the careful avoidance over the endless scrutiny.

She's now as untouchable as Quinn is, and she chooses to see it as a beautiful, glorious thing. She's allowed to do her work with ease, people falling to silence around her. She's able to get things done without anyone putting up a fuss, and she gets to make changes in her Department that nobody disputes.

There is power in being Quinn's wife that she never had in being LeRoy's daughter.

She even manages to schedule a full Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday off from work, which Quinn uses to her advantage the moment Rachel mentions it.

Quinn hires a car, and they leave for the Hamptons as soon as her shift ends on Wednesday. Rachel is particularly exhausted after spending nearly six hours on her feet with her hands working frantically to save a young girl after a diving accident, and she's so lucky she's married to someone who _understands_.

Quinn just kisses her cheek, makes sure her seatbelt is properly clipped, puts on some soft music, and then lets her nap for majority of the drive out of the city.

She wakes when the car slows, and her eyes blink open at the sound of crunch beneath the tyres. She's had a small idea of what to expect of a house in the Hamptons, but she should know better by now. Quinn has basically undersold so many aspects of her Spencer life, and this house is no different.

Quinn presses a fob on a foreign set of keys and one of the four garage doors opens for them. There's a passcode to get them into the actual house, and she's pleasantly surprised to find it completely spotless, with the unmistakable smell of food wafting from the massive, open-plan kitchen.

"I called ahead," Quinn says, setting their bags at the bottom of one of the staircases. "We have a staff here."

Rachel has ignored various things rather selectively, and this is one of those things. Instead, she slips her hand into Quinn's and allows the woman to show her around.

It is overwhelming.

The views, mainly. The decor and general... glamour of everything around them. There are three stories, and then a further wine cellar where Quinn picks out a very old, very expensive bottle for them, and then leads her back to the kitchen. Rachel is still in a bit of awe as she watches Quinn retrieve their dinner from the warmers and then chills and decants their wine.

They eat on the back deck, the sound of the water filling their senses, and Rachel thinks, for the first time, that she could live this life.

With Quinn, she could live every kind of life.

Of course, their dinner is fish, and Quinn indulges in her sea bass, claiming she's going to attempt to make something similar when they get back to the city. It is such an odd thing, this dichotomy of this woman who can get everything she could ever want but wanting to do it all for herself.

Sometimes, Rachel barely recognises her.

Then she does the thing and says, "We are having sex in every room of this house," and, yip, there she is.

Rachel doesn't even bother to dispute the statement. She wouldn't even want to at this point. It's just, well, there are _a lot_ of rooms, and they don't have a lot of time. They need to eat, and she's also keen to explore the area.

Quinn grins at her when she mentions those things, and then laughs as if Rachel is so silly, which usually happens the other way around. Then she says, "Oh, my love," in that way that already gets Rachel's body thrumming. "It's cute that you think we're going to get _any_ sleep."

So, yeah, okay, Rachel really should know better.

* * *

Rachel wouldn't really say they did a lot of dating before marriage. There weren't a lot of dinners at restaurants or extravagant visits to museums and Broadway shows and all those other lovely, romantic things.

After marriage, though, it's as if Quinn has lost all her restraint when it comes to the extent she's willing to show Rachel just how much she loves and adores her.

The Hamptons allows Quinn to do that. They get dressed up and wine and dine like they've never done before, Quinn treating this little excursion as several things at the same time. First, it's their pre-honeymoon, because Quinn vows to take her somewhere exotic when they have the time. It's also the opportunity for them to meet the locals and put their names out there for when they inevitably take over the world. But, probably most importantly, it is the chance for them to scope out their wedding venue.

Find caterers and florists and all of the things Beth placed on a list for her. For them. Rachel doesn't want anything particularly fancy, and she's relieved Quinn seems to get that. She's already done the big wedding, and this reception is meant to be intimate.

"But we're getting a massive cake, right?" Quinn asks, sounding genuinely worried.

"Of course, Honey," Rachel tells her, because she'd never dream of denying Quinn at least that.

She's never quite been able to deny her cake, if she's being honest, and Quinn laughs uncontrollably for far too long when she says those words out loud, the innuendo rather obvious.

"I love you," Quinn says, and Rachel doesn't want to think of a time when she wasn't aware of just how much.

* * *

As predicted, Quinn is successful.

They have sex in every room at least once, twice in others, and too many times to count in the bed they choose for their stay. What Rachel figures from the time she's spent being loved by Quinn is that they probably would have made a baby by now if they were physically able to.

What she also learns is that sex is more of a workout than anything she's ever done. She spends nearly the entire weekend out of breath and in various stages of undress. Quinn mentioned there's a staff, but Rachel doesn't see a single member, their coming in and out when they're out or when Rachel just isn't paying attention.

They spend hours on the beach, dipping in the water. They take walks along piers and indulge in cold, cold ice cream. They eat food off each other at the poolside. They make love on the living room carpet and fuck against the floor-to-ceiling windows. They prepare the guest list and seating plan for their wedding reception while rolling on the grass like the young people they're trying to be.

Rachel isn't sure it's a good idea to get used to this life, but she can feel it happening. At times, she even entertains the idea of not going back.

"We'll come back," Quinn assures her when they're packing up for their departure. "We'll spend longer, and do it all again."

Quinn takes everything she says very seriously, so Rachel definitely believes her.


	5. Chapter 5

**V**

A lot happens in the weeks that follow.

Beside planning a wedding reception and moving forward with their hospital project, Beth has her seventeenth birthday, Rachel loses little Anna in her sleep, Hiram visits their home for the first time and Quinn sets a date for her global trip.

It is something like magic being able to come home to Quinn. There were times during her previous relationships when she dreaded walking through the front door and seeing another human being in her space, but it's different with Quinn.

It's always been.

It barely even matters what mood she's in when she gets home, because Quinn always manages to improve it. Just by being whom she is and loving Rachel with every part of her. She's in tune with Rachel in ways that surprise them both.

That isn't to say they don't fight, because they do. It's something to be said about finding little things your partner does annoying, but they exist. Quinn is particular in some ways, and Rachel is particular in others, and they don't see eye-to-eye on a handful of small things.

The big things, though, they're definitely on board together. Politics and favourite cuisines. Babies and the way they want their future to look.

Then they land their first investors behind the Spencer Foundation, and Quinn's schedule suddenly skyrockets to a level where Rachel barely sees her. Rachel knows Quinn is pushing herself, overworking to get as much done before she goes overseas, but it is a jarring adjustment leaving home after her and getting back before her.

An exhausted Quinn is someone very different to the spritely, sex-enthused thirty-four-year-old she usually is, and Rachel wasn't sure what to expect until she watched Quinn stumble through their front door, dump her things at her feet and then practically crawl right into Rachel's lap and just stay there.

She basically turns into a little cub, and Rachel wasn't aware she could love this woman any more. She even purrs when Rachel plays with her hair. It's literally everything she's ever wanted from life.

She wouldn't exchange it for anything.

* * *

By the time Quinn leaves on her month-long expedition, the hospital site has been purchased, plans drawn up and approved, and renovations have started. It is constantly amazing what money can get done in such a short time.

They've also set a date for the reception in the late summer, both of them letting Beth take the reins beyond their initial involvement.

Rachel, admittedly, isn't looking forward to an entire month without Quinn. Especially knowing she's going places in different time zones and with limited access to technology and communication. Since her leave of absence and subsequent return to New York, there hasn't been a single day she hasn't seen Quinn. Touched her and breathed her in.

"I see," Quinn muses the night before she's scheduled to leave, eyes closed and voice raspy. "You're just going to miss my body."

Said body is currently sprawled out beside Rachel on their impossibly large bed, a little red from where Rachel got a little too enthusiastic leaving numerous signs to everyone the woman encounters in the next few days that Quinn is taken.

As if the wedding rings don't do that enough.

Rachel kisses the skin over her heart. "I'm going to miss you," she murmurs. "Just you. Everything about you."

"What are you going to miss?" Quinn asks, and the question sounds genuine.

Rachel kisses her skin again, lips leaving a trail towards her collarbone. "I'm going to miss the way you watch me get dressed every morning," she murmurs.

Which is true. It's one of her favourite things, feeling Quinn's eyes on her where she remains in their bed. Quinn looks at her with something like wonder and devotion, and that look alone is enough to get her through each trying day.

"What else?" Quinn asks, breath hitching as Rachel licks over the skin of her neck.

"I'm going to miss the way you always know the right playlist to play for me," she tells her. It's really a superpower Quinn has, being able to take just one look at her and know what music she needs to hear. "I'm going to miss the way you mumble to yourself when I forget to hang up my towel."

Quinn groans. "God, that drives me insane."

Rachel slides her left hand down the line of muscles of Quinn's abdomen. " _These_ drive me insane," she whispers, teeth nipping at Quinn's earlobe.

"Ah," Quinn sounds; "so it _is_ about my body."

Rachel kisses her smile. "I'm definitely going to miss your body," she admits, because she truly is. "Your mouth and your lips. I'm going to miss your smile and the feel of your breath against my skin. I'm going to miss your taste and that sound you make when I touch you just right."

" _Rachel_ ," she breathes.

"I'm going to miss your warmth," she continues; "and how it feels to sleep wrapped in your arms every night." She nuzzles Quinn's cheek, feeling her mouth pull into a bigger smile. "I'm going to miss the way you love me as if I'm something precious."

Quinn opens her eyes and turns her head. "You know I'm not going to love you any less when I'm not physically here, right?" she says. "I'm just going to have to show it to you in a different way."

Well.

Rachel doesn't quite figure out what she means by that until Quinn has been abroad for three days and a massive bouquet of flowers gets delivered to the hospital for her. She's not exaggerating about the massive part, and even Jesse does a double-take when he sees the enormity of the vase.

"Well, now I just feel inadequate," he comments.

Rachel just stares at it. "I don't even know how I'm supposed to get it home," she says, thinking about possibly taking this gigantic thing on the subway. She'll have to take a cab.

"Is she apologising for something?" Jesse asks, and Rachel looks questioningly at him. "I mean, that's why spouses usually get flowers, right?"

"That's why _men_ get flowers," she points out. "Did you know that women actually buy more flowers than men do? To give to one another."

"Why do you know that?"

She ignores him. "And, no, she's not apologising for anything," she says. "She's just telling me she loves me."

"There are easier, cheaper ways," he points out.

She gently pats his cheek. "See, St James, _this_ is why we got divorced."

* * *

Quinn sends pictures whenever she has good connection, and Rachel gets snapshots of amazing landscapes, selfies with other doctors and even a few of the locals. There are a lot of pictures of the food she's trying, and Quinn always adds the words, _I'm definitely bringing you back here_.

They don't get the chance to talk over the phone too often, with both their schedules and the time differences, but every piece of contact is something Rachel cherishes.

She misses Quinn something terrible, and she can't stand the silence of their home. The cold of their bed.

Which is why she picks up extra shifts at the hospital, working herself into an alarming weariness until Santana - _Santana_ \- tells her to pack it up and go home.

"You're no use to anyone dead on your feet," Santana tells her. "And Quinn would kill me if I let you burn yourself out while she's away."

Rachel blinks blearily at her from where she's been reading the same words on a chart for the past fourteen minutes. "She asked you to keep an eye on me."

"It seems you need it," Santana deflects. "She's been gone barely two weeks, and you've had how many hours of sleep, hmm?"

"Nineteen."

Santana stares at her, and then shakes her head. "Go home, Little Berry," she says. "I've seen enough of your face for one day."

Rachel feels a little pathetic, really, missing Quinn so much. Still, she does as instructed and goes home, crawls into bed, hugs a pillow to her chest and desperately tries not to think about her wife half a world away.

* * *

Beth visits the second weekend Quinn is gone, and Rachel just knows Quinn sent her.

Rachel says, "I do know how to take care of myself, you know."

Beth takes one look around the living space - which, okay, it _could_ look less like a disaster - and then goes to the kitchen. She dumps her grocery bags on the table and turns to look at Rachel.

"I'm just here to cook," Beth says. "We both know you've been eating takeout or not eating at all, so I'm going to make three bulk dishes and then pack and freeze them to last the next two weeks."

Rachel wants to be irritated, but a home-cooked meal sounds heavenly right now. With a pout, she drops into a kitchen chair and watches Beth get started. It isn't even as if Rachel can't cook - she has a list of five recipes she can do really well, thank you very much - but she just doesn't feel like it. It's hard to cook for one, now that she's so used to there being two.

Beth just seems amused by her. "I mean, I was sure it was going to be tough for you two, but you're both so miserable."

Rachel raises her eyebrows. "Quinn's miserable?"

Beth laughs. "She's seriously considered changing her flight three times already," she tells Rachel. "I don't - it just doesn't make sense to me."

Rachel shrugs, because it doesn't necessarily make sense to her either. They lived apart for so long - basically their entire lives - and now they're these hopeless wrecks being apart from each other for a few days.

"I wouldn't know what to tell you," Rachel says. "Maybe it's because the last time we were apart, we weren't... together. I mean, we were, but not in the official way, and I - I guess I'm just so used to her." Her gaze meets Beth's over the top of the onions she's dicing. "If anyone understands how it feels to want nothing more than just to have her around, I would think it would be you."

Beth freezes, her movements stilling. Her expression shifts several times before she nods. "I suppose I do," she finally says, quiet enough that it could be a secret. "She told you about that?"

Rachel nods.

"I didn't think I would ever be someone to break her heart until I said what I said," she says, caught in the memory. "I - I mean, I didn't actually mean it, I don't think." She looks pensive. "It just felt - I felt as if I had to do anything to keep her, you know? Like, at that point in our lives, she was getting ready to go, and I couldn't stand the thought of that."

Rachel can sympathise with that. She's sure she would have done something similarly abrupt. The day she read Quinn's resignation letter, she too had quit, in some perverse attempt to keep Quinn.

"You don't feel that way anymore, right?" Rachel asks.

Beth shakes her head. "I told you," she says. "She's staying, Rachel. She's exactly where she's meant to be." She grins in that way that's similar to Quinn and spells only mischief. "I didn't even have to relapse this time," she says; "she just had to marry you."

Seriously.

It's like being a little shit runs in their blood.

* * *

Quinn has been away for twenty-four long, never-ending days when Henry comes into the Emergency Room with what started a rapidly-grown tumour obstructing his bowel and graduated into a perforated bowel. He's in so much pain, crying for his parents, crying for Rachel, and crying for Quinn. Howling. Screaming for the pain to stop. Begging.

The Emergency Room is overwhelmed when Henry is brought in behind a seven-car pile-up, and Rachel doesn't get to him soon enough before the worst of it has already begun. She has to take only one look at him, and it's decided on the spot. He needs surgery. Immediately.

Everything is rushed from then on, and he looks at her with pleading eyes, blood red and filled with tears, and she smooths his hair back when they're putting him to sleep. "It's going to be okay," she whispers to him. "When you wake up, I promise the pain will be gone."

He blinks up at her, relief hitting him as the drugs do. He drifts off a moment later and Rachel physically has to stop herself from dropping a kiss to his forehead.

The thing is.

There was a doctor she worked with once who told her she should never make promises. The man meant it in the sense that it could lead to a malpractice lawsuit, but Rachel has heeded it in the sense that she wouldn't want to lie to her patients and their families.

Today, it turns out, Rachel Berry is a liar.

It is not okay.

Henry never wakes up.

They try. Dear God, do they try. They do everything they possibly can, even willing to pack him and try again when his little body has had time to recover from the initial trauma.

Rachel breaks her promise to him, and a part of her breaks, too.

Marley offers to be the one to bring the news to his parents, but Rachel shakes her head. They go together, and she remembers saying words but not what they actually were. She remembers holding back her own tears, forcing herself not to drop to her knees and beg this couple who have just lost their baby boy for forgiveness.

She has little memory of what happens next, her feet carrying her away from their dual sobbing. Marley says something, she says something back, and then she's walking away. Somewhere far from here.

It's like she's underwater.

She can barely breathe.

She's lost patients before. Each one is heartbreaking in its own way, but Rachel can't foresee how she recovers from this.

Quinn.

She needs Quinn.

She fumbles with her phone, her hands shaking, and she can barely see the screen through her tears. She hits her speed dial, praying Quinn answers. She just - she needs -

"'Ello." Quinn sounds half asleep, probably because she is. She must have been sleeping. Rachel will feel guilty about it later.

"Quinn," she says, just the one word, and she knows Quinn will understand. They once talked about it: the way a doctor's voice can sound when they lose a patient.

The way Rachel's voice sounds right now.

Quinn shifts. "Baby," she says, and she sounds alarmingly alert for having been asleep a minute ago. Then she asks, "Who?"

Rachel doesn't think she'll be able to say his name, but she still tries. "Henry." It comes out pained, broken and her voice cracks halfway through.

Quinn sucks in a sharp breath, because Henry is - was -

God.

"Baby," Quinn says, and she sounds like she's moving now. "Where are you? Who's with you?"

Rachel looks around. She's standing in an empty corridor. Alone.

Her silence must be answer enough.

"Okay," Quinn says. "Okay, my love. Just breathe for me. Breathe with me."

Rachel does. She does exactly as Quinn says, her phone pressed to her ear as Quinn talks her through the next twenty minutes of her life. It's a weird thing, feeling both so far away from Quinn and still so close to her.

Somehow, she's able to get changed out of her scrubs and get her belongings to go home. Home. Where she'll be alone.

Quinn says, "I'm right here," right into her ear.

It is probably some kind of miracle that she manages to get home, and she arrives on their floor to find Jesse waiting at the door with a sad smile and a massive box of tissues.

"Quinn," she whispers into her phone.

"Are you home?" Quinn asks. "Is he - "

"I love you so much," she says, cutting her off. "I just - I wish you were here."

"I know, my love," Quinn whispers. "Me too."

* * *

After crying her eyes out, Rachel falls asleep in Jesse's arms and wakes in Quinn's.

At first, she's convinced she's dreaming. She's exhausted enough that it wouldn't be the first time she's dreamt of Quinn since she's been gone.

But this time is different. Quinn has a distinct scent that even her dreams can't conjure, and Rachel's eyes snap open when her own fist closes around fabric of a familiar sweater.

It's Quinn.

Quinn is in their bed, still wearing her boots as she sleeps beside her. Rachel stares at her in disbelief, trying to figure out how this could possibly be. She's quite certain Quinn was on another continent just last night. But -

Quinn must feel her stare, because her eyes blink open a moment later. They widen when she sees that Rachel is awake, and then she smiles a little shakily. "Baby," she whispers.

Rachel immediately burrows into her, feeling like the world has shifted and resettled in this moment. It - Quinn is here. She's here.

"You're here," she mumbles into Quinn's sweater.

Quinn's hands rub her back soothingly. "Of course, I'm here," she says. "There is nowhere in this world I am meant to be other than right here."

"You came home for me."

Quinn presses a kiss to the top of her head. "I will always come home for you," she vows, and it's one of the most romantic things Quinn has ever said to her.

Rachel shifts back to look into her eyes. "I'm sorry," she says.

Quinn blinks. "For what?"

"I couldn't save him."

Quinn seems to deflate. "I know, and Henry knows, and his parents know you did _everything_ you could," she says.

"It wasn't enough."

Quinn hums. Rachel knows she knows this feeling. There are always those patients that stay with you. Haunt you.

"I promised him," Rachel whispers. "I told him the pain would be gone when he woke up."

Quinn holds her close, arms wrapped around her body. "The pain _is_ gone," she says.

The words don't help, but they also do, in a sense. It's mainly Quinn's presence. Everything is better when Quinn is here.

* * *

They attend Henry's funeral together, their hands clasped tightly the entire time. Rachel thought she was all cried out, but she's wrong. It's definitely not the first funeral she's been to, and likely won't be the last, but this one strikes a cord within her that cannot be ignored.

After they've paid their respects, Rachel asks Quinn if they can visit the hospital site, and Quinn agrees. They must be a sight themselves, dressed in all black and eyes puffy from their tears, but Rachel doesn't care what anyone thinks.

Obviously, Rachel has visited in the days Quinn has been gone, but this is the first time Quinn is seeing the progress they've made since she's been away. It's the weekend, so the site is empty, and they're able to explore in peace.

They've spoken endlessly about the design, even going so far as to hire their interior design firm long before they can even get started. Rachel knows she wants a lot of colour, and Quinn agrees. Any excuse for endless rainbows and unicorns, really.

What she also knows, though, is what she wants this hospital to be called.

"I have a confession," Rachel says, spinning slowly as she takes in the main atrium.

Quinn watches only her, soft smile on her face.

"I think, in some ways, I kept myself slightly distanced from all of this," she says. "It - it feels like your baby, you know? _Your_ dream we're putting together, and I'm just along for the ride."

Quinn looks predictably distressed by this, but Rachel manages to smile at her.

"It's okay," she assures her. "It was just how it felt, though I know it's not true. There was just this odd disconnect. Maybe because I'm not as involved in the day-to-day, because I still work elsewhere, and I - it just felt different, and I was okay with it." She moves towards Quinn now, eyes meeting hers. "My stance has changed."

Quinn remains perfectly still.

"Henry came into our Emergency Room in unbearable pain, and it took them twenty-six minutes to figure out he was mine so I could get to him. Twenty-six minutes we will never get back. Twenty-six minutes that we will never know if they could have saved his life."

Quinn looks down, her expression shifting to something that resembles guilt. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I - if I were still running the ER, we both know that wouldn't have happened."

"Oh, sweetheart," Rachel murmurs, getting close enough to touch Quinn. Her right hand lifts up to cup her cheek. "I didn't tell you that to make you feel bad about something we both know was already fated to happen."

"Then, why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because I want in," she says. "Properly. Fully. I want - I want to save them all. I want our little people to come to this hospital and be our priority. I want them to be able to wake up. They should get to go home."

Quinn's head tilts a little to the side, waiting, because it's obvious Rachel isn't done.

"I also want this to be the Henry Garcia Memorial Hospital." The declaration is rushed, the words basically pouring out of her, and she's certain she'll burst into tears if Quinn doesn't agree.

Quinn reaches for her and pulls her into a hug. "Then this shall be the Henry Garcia Memorial Hospital."

* * *

"Do you have to go back?"

Quinn looks up from her _iPad_ that's balanced on her stomach. She just looks so comfortable sprawled out on their couch, hair in a messy ponytail and glasses on her face.

Rachel, in turn, is standing between their kitchen and living area, cup of tea in her hand. "Do you have to go back?" she asks again. "To wherever you were before you came home?"

Quinn shifts her tablet off her stomach and sits up to look at her properly. "I do, yeah," she says. "I didn't manage to visit every place I needed to."

"Oh."

Quinn pats the space beside her. "Come sit with me a moment," she says; "there's something I want to run by you."

Rachel hesitates because the idea of Quinn's leaving again is making her feel physically ill. Still, she goes, drawn to Quinn in a way she's not willing to resist.

Quinn reaches for her cup of tea and sets it on the low table. "I've been thinking," she says, reaching for Rachel's hands once she's settled. "Maybe you'd like to come with me."

"What?"

"Just get away, the two of us, for a little while," Quinn says. "We can turn it into a little trip."

"Where would we go?"

Quinn smiles, visibly allowing her excitement to seep through. "South Africa," she says. "I have quite a bit of work to do when we arrive, but it shouldn't take more than a few days. We can spend the rest of the time on vacation."

"When would we leave?"

"As soon as you're able to get time off." She looks oddly nervous. "Is that something you'd want?" she asks.

It's been an odd few days for Rachel, and she knows Quinn has been sensitive to it. She feels a little lost and she can't be certain why. She's sought Quinn's touch at every opportunity, but they haven't _touched_.

In another life, she knows their reunion would have been very different, but Quinn has been so careful with her, even a little wary. Rachel doesn't tend to handle grief very well, and she aches at the thought Quinn almost expects her to push her away again.

Rachel lifts a hand to touch her cheek, fingers featherlight against her skin. "Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you take me to bed?"

Quinn blinks, because the question is purposeful. "I - are you sure?"

Rachel leans in to kiss her softly, just letting her lips linger over hers. "Take me to bed, Quinn."

Quinn looks a little dazed when she pulls away. "But, your tea," she murmurs.

Rachel laughs.

God, it feels like the first time she's laughed in so long.

She kisses Quinn again, harder, and then runs her fingers through her hair, loosening her ponytail. "If you don't take me to bed, we're going to do it right here," Rachel tells her, which is more than enough incentive for Quinn.

Their reunion might not have gone to plan, but Quinn more than makes up for it like a woman who hasn't had sex with her wife for almost six weeks.

She even breaks her record and hits a solid _twelve_.

* * *

Quinn throws herself headlong into work while Rachel tries to negotiate some time off. One would think she'd have an in, given her father, but she's determined to keep their relationship strictly professional.

Rachel isn't quite okay, which they've both acknowledged, and she keeps herself as far away from a surgical rotation while she works through how losing Henry has affected her. There's a worrying resentment that's settled into her bones whenever she steps into the hospital.

She wonders if this is what Quinn used to feel, but in regards to Beth.

This hospital failed Henry, and it's a thought that constantly pings in her head. She knows it, Quinn knows it, and she gets the feeling Blaine knows it, too, because he's carefully stayed out of her way since the funeral.

Quinn keeps her grounded, though, constantly texting with all new ideas for the hospital, and for potential branding. There is something settling about the idea of Henry being a part of their new venture, because he was part of so much else between the two of them.

Quinn confided in him about her desire to marry Rachel, and that is something they'll always have.

And they also have this: Henry's favourite colour was blue and his favourite animal was the giraffe, and those two things come together to form the final insignia for the hospital. Rachel cries when she first sees it, just a screenshot on Quinn's phone, and it all just cements the feeling they're doing the right thing.

"You know, we'll actually get to see real giraffes when we're in South Africa," Quinn comments as she hands her a tissue.

"Honey, you don't have to keep trying to sell it to me," she says with a soft smile; "I already said yes."

Quinn rolls her eyes as she leans in to kiss her cheek. "I think it'll work out nicely if we go after the reception," she says. "Treat it like a working honeymoon."

"Don't call it that."

"Okay."

Rachel wipes her eyes dry, sighing heavily. "But, yeah, that makes sense," she says. "Book the tickets. I'll make it happen."

"That should be the hospital's motto, you know," she says. "Make it happen."

Rachel isn't completely sold, but the sentiment remains. They'll figure it out. They have the time and the means, and they're going to do it perfect and right.

For Henry.

* * *

Beth turns into something of a heathen the closer they get to the reception date. All Rachel and Quinn really have to do is get through their fittings and then show up on the day.

As long as there's Quinn's desired massive cake, Rachel is going to be there. Well, she'd be there for Quinn, anyway, but the cake makes it infinitely better. More incentive and all that.

When Quinn gets stressed, she gets quiet. It was strange the first time Rachel figured that out. She just stopped talking and endlessly moving. She goes very still, her mind on a constant loop over what she still has to get done.

One of the ways Rachel's learned to get her to relax - besides the obvious - is to talk to her about surgery. Quinn is a surgeon at heart, and she's been out of the operating room for months. Sometimes, you just need to cut.

Rachel even contemplates scheduling a surgery _for_ her, but she has to settle for putting on a filmed operation on their television screen. Quinn finds them weirdly soothing, and Rachel just wants to keep her sane. Quinn already does so much for her, and Rachel wants to do the same.

It helps.

Rachel doesn't even know where all Quinn's stress is coming from until she comes home one night, places a bound wad of paper in her lap and says, "The Spencer Foundation is proud to present the Henry Garcia Memorial Hospital for Children, slated for opening on November fifteen."

Rachel's breath gets stuck in her throat, because -

Because.

"That's Henry's birthday," Rachel whispers, staring down at the laminate page in front of her. The branding is beautiful, the font chosen by her some weeks ago. Henry's name is proudly on display, and -

"Quinn," she says, looking at her with wide eyes. "It's happening."

"It's happening," Quinn confirms.

Her eyes widen further. "Quinn."

"What?"

"We should probably talk to Henry's parents."

* * *

In hindsight, they probably should have done this before they decided to centre their project around a young, effervescent boy lost too soon. It's not as if she expects Henry's parents to have a problem - she hopes, at least - but it would really create a logistical nightmare if they were absolutely against it.

Rachel spied their marketing budget, and it's really ten times what she thought if could possibly be.

Rachel hasn't seen Roberto and Amanda Garcia since the funeral, but they've known each other for years. Since Henry became her patient when she arrived at New Budapest Hospital. It isn't even the first time she's been in their house.

It is Quinn's, though, and she's visibly unfamiliar. Out of her usual element.

But it's okay.

This time, Rachel is going to take the lead.

Bobby looks happy to see them, which helps, and Amanda offers tired smiles and excuses for the mess. They have two other children, both older than Henry was, and Rachel imagines it is still an adjustment for them all.

Amanda offers drinks, and Bobby and Quinn talk about baseball for a moment. It's strange and also not, but Rachel eventually has to get to the point of their visit and it happens rather naturally.

Bobby is the one who first mentions Henry, glancing nervously at his wife as if he's worried she won't be able to handle it. Amanda reaches for his hand, squeezing tightly, and Rachel uses the opportunity to bring up the hospital. They're really the first people outside of the design team and hospital board to learn about its confirmed existence.

Amanda cries, which was expected. Rachel cries, too, and then Quinn cries as well - claiming she's a sympathetic crier.

Bobby asks what would be expected of them, having Henry's name on the building.

"Nothing," Rachel informs them, because she's already taken so much from them. "Just your blessing."

It is given, easily, and Rachel and Quinn leave feeling lighter and more purposeful a half-hour later. Promises to keep them updated are made, and Quinn mentions to Rachel that they should make the Garcia couple honorary members of the Board. No actual power, just a title.

Rachel hums her agreement, reaching for Quinn's hand and bringing her to a stop where she's practically motoring down the street towards their next destination. It's almost comical the way she halts, her arm extending, and she turns to face Rachel with a quizzical expression.

"It's happening," Rachel says. "It's really happening."

Quinn smiles like it's a secret. "It is, my love."

Rachel steps closer to her, right into her personal space. "We're making it happen."

Quinn's expression shifts into a shit-eating grin.

"What?"

"Make it happen, huh?"

Rachel laughs, pressing a kiss to the corner of Quinn's mouth. "It's growing on me."

* * *

With an opening date set, they both know the next few months are going to be crucial. The fine details to the functional aspects and aesthetics of the hospital are normally the most time-consuming and expensive, and Quinn is involved in everything.

Rachel receives hourly texts asking for her opinions, and she spends moments between patients and surgeries looking at paint colours and kid-sized chairs.

With an opening date set, advertising and marketing takes over, and the general public is finally made aware of the Children's Hospital coming to the area. And, with it, Rachel knows will be job applications and additional scrutiny.

It is a beautiful thing to watch her father slowly lose his mind worrying over his prized doctors wanting to jump ship. There's a certain tension that seeps into the air of the hospital, and Rachel enjoys it far too much.

Jesse is the first to bring it up to her, saying, "Isn't the Spencer Foundation where Quinn's working these days?"

Rachel nods behind her coffee, attention split between him and her phone, where a member of the public relations' team has emailed about her working title at the hospital. Hmm. That's something she and Quinn should probably discuss.

Jesse snaps his fingers in front of her face. "Babe, your wife is literally opening another hospital."

Rachel looks at him. "I do know that," she says, looking bemused. "She's been working on it for a while."

"Is that why she left her job here?"

"Partly."

Jesse seems to ponder that, and then narrows his eyes. "You're a paediatric surgeon," he states.

"I am."

"And your wife is opening a children's hospital."

"She is."

Jesse sighs. "You're abandoning me."

On another day, she might continue to mess with him, but there's something in his voice that stops her. "I wouldn't call it abandoning you, but it is my intention to take up a position there, yes."

"Your father would never let you."

"Do you know I have a release clause in my contract?"

"What?"

"A release clause," Rachel explains. "Basically, a monetary number a future employer could pay to buy me out of my contract."

"Please don't tell me your wife is literally going to _buy_ you."

Rachel chuckles. "It's fine," she says with a wave of her hand. "She can afford it."

Jesse looks at her. "Do you think she can afford me?" he asks, and he sounds only half-serious.

"Apply for a job," she says. "Who knows what'll happen?"

"Who's in charge of hiring, anyway?" he asks.

Rachel frowns, because, huh, she doesn't actually know.

* * *

"Cassandra July?" Rachel doesn't mean to shriek, but the name comes out high-pitched and panicked, and Quinn almost drops her coffee where she's just taking a sip. " _Cassandra July_?"

Quinn just blinks at her. "Um." She sets her cup on the table. "You know her?"

"Please tell me you did not hire Cassandra July as the Chief of HG Memorial."

Quinn opens her mouth to speak, and then immediately closes it.

"Quinn."

"I don't really know what's happening right now," she says. "I mean, technically, _I_ didn't hire anyone, you know. The Board decided from a list of candidates. She must have impressed them."

"Oh, my God."

"What? What's wrong?"

"Do you remember when I told you about that one crazy Attending I had who basically scarred me for life when I was still a Resident?"

"Yes..."

Rachel raises her eyebrows.

"Let me guess," Quinn says. "Dr Cassandra July."

"She's batshit, Quinn."

Rachel moves towards her, ignoring the seat beside her and rather settling right in her lap. "I'm sure she'll take HG Memorial far," she says. "But, dear God, it's going to be a ride."

"If it's going to be a problem for you, then I can have them find someone else," Quinn tells her, sounding genuine.

"No," Rachel says, arms around Quinn's neck. "I think she'll be a good fit. Henry would have loved her; would have found her hilarious."

"She does seem colourful."

"Oh, Honey, you have no idea."

Quinn's hands settle on her waist. "You mentioned you don't know what title to put on your business card," she says.

"Firstly, why do we even need business cards?"

Quinn shrugs. "It's a thing, apparently," she says. "But, according to the latest list of employees, you are Head of Paediatric General Surgery."

"Oh."

"What?"

"If I'm Head of Paediatric General Surgery, then what are you?"

"I'm a Trauma surgeon, Rachel," she says.

"But you're _also_ a Paediatric surgeon," she points out.

"Maybe you'll be my boss," Quinn says with a grin. "Wouldn't that be fun?"

"I married you," Rachel quips; "I'm _already_ your boss."

Quinn kisses her cheek. "How about we worry about job descriptions and all that after this weekend, okay?" she suggests. "I'm keen to get married to you again, and then jet off to some foreign land and just enjoy some time with you."

Rachel meets her gaze. "What would you do if I suggested we abstain until our wedding night?"

Quinn looks predictably horrified at the mere thought, and Rachel bursts out laughing. "Please don't say such things," Quinn says. "Don't even put something like that into the Universe."

"It's only five days."

"Rachel," Quinn says. "No."

"Don't you think you can do it?"

"I _can_ do it, but I really don't want to, and there is absolutely no reason to put us both through that."

Rachel grins, thoroughly enjoying Quinn's reaction. "I don't know," she says. "It might be good for us."

"No, it won't."

"Definitely make our wedding night more exciting."

"I can assure you it's already going to be exciting, either way."

Rachel opens her mouth to add fuel to this fire, but Quinn silences her with a kiss. It's purposeful, meant to tell her to drop the subject. It's really just very funny, and she laughs out loud when Quinn gets to her feet, all while still holding onto her in an impressive display of strength, her intent clear as she carries her towards their bedroom.

Okay.

Hmm.

Maybe Quinn _would_ be able to abstain that long, but Rachel suddenly isn't so sure of herself.

* * *

There are vows this time.

Initially, there wasn't meant to be any kind of ceremony, but Beth slipped it onto the agenda for the day, and she is the one to stand with the couple and pronounce them wife and wife for the second time, unofficial as it is.

Rachel says, "We've done many things in the wrong order," with an amused smile, tears in her eyes. Quinn just looks so beautiful, perfect in a way that Rachel can't imagine looking away from her. "Everything happening in its own time, just to get us to this very point in our lives. Together. Happy." Her lips tremble as she speaks. "I wasn't sure we would ever get here. When we met, God, you were such a pain."

There's a bout of laughter from their small congregation, a lot of people all too aware of just how _much_ of a pain Quinn was.

"I couldn't imagine being married to you; being exclusive and part of this serious, everlasting relationship," Rachel says. "But you've always known we'd end up here, and I'm so glad you're so stupidly persistent and annoying and so beautiful." She shakes her head. "Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for continuing to love me while I caught up to you; while I figured out that all I want in life is to be happy and fulfilled, with you by my side. Thank you for being everything I need, and everything I want. Because you are, Quinn." She chokes on the tears she won't allow to fall. "You truly are everything."

In return, Quinn says, "I probably should have gone first, because I don't know how to follow that," and there's more laughter. She clears her throat. "I don't think you actually believe me when I tell you I knew we would end up here from the moment we met, but I'll continue to remind you I've known along I would love you forever."

Her spine straightens, her posture severe. "And, today, I get to stand up here in front of all our people and gush about how much I love you until Beth calls us gross." She winks at Beth, and then meets Rachel's gaze again. "There was a time in my life when I would have run from this. Letting people in wasn't something I would have done until I met you.

"I met you, and a lot of things started to make sense. I met you, and I understood what all the fuss was about love and relationships and spending your life with your ride-or-die meant-to-be. I met you, and I finally understood what it meant to find your home in someone." She smiles shakily. "Thank you for giving me that. Thank you for giving me you."

In all honesty, Rachel didn't expect the day to be so emotional, but there are tears and more tears, and she and Quinn aren't even the only ones.

She swears she spots even Santana wiping at her eyes.

After, there's finally food and music, the party getting into full swing as they can finally celebrate their nuptials with all the important people in their lives.

All.

Rachel debated endlessly over inviting LeRoy, but eventually decided to do it and leave the ball in his court. Neither she nor Quinn has received an apology from him, and she doesn't think either of them will. Not without actually asking for one.

It was a shock when he RSVPd, and Rachel designated Hiram on LeRoy duty, which he was all too willing to do, delighting in the idea of keeping his ex-husband in line.

It's a great day, despite everything. There are speeches from Hiram and Beth, and there's endless dancing. The food is a mixture of all their favourites, and the cake, of course, has plenty of berries in its filling.

Rachel wouldn't compare this wedding to her one to Jesse in the sense of grandeur, because it's an unfair comparison. That wedding had been a spectacle for _other people_ , and this one is designed solely for _Rachel and Quinn_.

They have expensive taste, it seems, and Rachel suspects their friends who were unaware of Quinn's finances will have a better idea of just what Rachel has married into by the end of the night.

They _are_ about to spend three weeks on safari in South Africa.

But, first, their wedding night is spent in the Hampton house, their selected room decked out with candles and rose petals to give the impression of a honeymoon suite. Rachel doesn't know how comfortable Quinn will be doing anything of significance with the knowledge Beth and Marcella are asleep in another room just down the hall, but -

Well.

Quinn says, "A wedding night is a wedding night," and so makes it her mission to make Rachel _scream_.

* * *

As far as a honeymoon goes, there are definitely worse places to be.

Majority of Quinn's work is in Johannesburg, and Rachel accompanies her for some of her visits to various Spencer Foundation sponsored clinics and orphanages.

Rachel has travelled a bit in the past, but it's her first time in Africa, and it is so much more than she ever could have imagined. Diverse and beautiful, the land and the people. She learns very quickly why they call it the Rainbow Nation.

She loves meeting people, talking to them and just hearing them speak.

Especially the children.

Quinn works, talking to adults and all the important people responsible for running the non-profits, and Rachel plays with the little human beings.

There are worse ways to spend her honeymoon, that's for sure.

Quinn, thankfully, isn't _all_ work the first few days. They explore restaurants and the history of the city rather extensively. Quinn even hires a car one day, and then spends a full hour complaining about having to drive on the wrong side of the road.

Their first weekend, they go to Sun City, and spend two nights staying at the Palace. It's grand and beautiful, and Rachel takes a moment to get used to the idea that she's married to someone who can afford to spend that much money on a single hotel room.

She's convinced sex among such expensive sheets must feel different, and she's not entirely wrong.

They indulge in local food, take a flight in a hot air balloon with copious amounts of champagne, and Quinn even jokes about playing a round of golf... which Rachel immediately shoots down. Instead, they take to the water, riding jet skis and water-surfing.

The part that bothers her, though, is that she's suddenly very aware of the fact she's one half of a homosexual couple. New York is starkly different when it comes to its perceived acceptance, and she can't help that there is a hesitance that creeps into her interaction with Quinn when they're in public.

Quinn notices, because of course she does, but she doesn't bring it up until they're back in the city and she's back at work. They're spending a night in, food service sent up to their room, and Quinn hesitantly says, "You know it's not illegal here, right?"

Rachel does know that, yes, but that doesn't mean it's widely accepted, either. In fact, Rachel can count on one hand the number of same-sex couples she's seen out and about, and it's actually rather deflating.

"I know," Rachel says, sighing.

Quinn tops up their wine glasses. "Okay."

"You never introduce me as your wife, though," Rachel points out. "Always just as your partner."

"I also do that in New York," Quinn tells her.

"But for a different reason."

Quinn can't dispute that, so she doesn't. It _is_ different here. Rachel expected it would be, but there's a difference between expecting and actually experiencing it.

"Is that something you've thought about?" Rachel asks.

"What?"

"The Foundation, I mean, providing support for LGBTQ+ people in all these other countries," she says. "I mean, it's taken years for the US to get to where it is, and that isn't even very far, so it just - what about here, you know? Or all those other places you've been? Would we be persecuted in those places?"

Quinn takes a large gulp from her wine glass before she sets it aside and crawls across the couch to hover over Rachel. "There are other branches to the Foundation," she says, and then carefully settles her weight onto Rachel. She presses a kiss to her cheek, and then her neck. "Diversity is not part of my job."

Rachel sighs when Quinn's lips trail over her collarbone. "Quinn, you're a lesbian," she says, fingers sliding into Quinn's hair. "It's always going to be part of your job, whether you get paid for it or not."

Quinn hums against her skin. "What do you want me to do?"

"Introduce me as your wife and give the people around you the evidence that you can love who you love and still be personable and successful in the job you're doing."

Quinn lifts her head, her eyes meeting Rachel's. Her reluctance is clear to see, because they're both aware of how perceptions can change. "Okay," she finally says. "Okay."

Rachel pulls her head in, kissing her softly. And then harder and harder still. Quinn's hands move purposefully, and Rachel feels grounded at her touch.

"You _are_ my wife," Quinn whispers to her, right into her ear. "My partner. You are my life." She turns her head, kissing her again. "I'll tell the entire world."

* * *

The entire world really boils down to the small team Quinn works with, and Rachel makes a point of bringing Quinn lunch while she's in the middle of a meeting.

It's honestly as awkward as Rachel expects, and she chooses to be amused by it rather than annoyed or worried. Quinn kisses her cheek on her way out, and then Rachel spends the rest of the afternoon helping the clinic's office workers catalogue all their remaining supplies.

In the evening, Quinn takes her to an early dinner at the Moyo Zoo Lake, and tells her, "A woman came to speak with me before I left tonight."

Rachel holds her breath, wondering if someone actually expressed disapproval of their brief display this afternoon.

Instead, Quinn says, "She said thank you, for showing her and the people she works with that it's okay and normal to be in a relationship with another woman."

Rachel can't hold back her smile. "Look at you."

"Look at _you_ ," Quinn returns. " _You_ constantly amaze me."

Rachel doesn't usually blush - not much since they actually got married - but she does now, because there's something about the way Quinn is currently looking at her. "You're already getting laid; don't worry."

Quinn laughs, soft and pretty. "I wasn't worried."

Rachel hums. "I should ask, though," she says; "has your sex drive always been this high?"

Quinn slices a piece of her steak and puts it in her mouth. She looks contemplative, as if she's truly considering her response. Once she's chewed and swallowed, she says, "No."

Rachel just watches her, waiting.

"My first time was with Beth's, uh, father," she explains, her face pinching in discomfort. "I didn't try again until college, and I knew from then on that men probably weren't going to be in my future." She clears her throat. "I was rather timid in the beginning, figuring it all out. And then I did. I met this woman, Ava, who was - God, she was wild." She grins. "Baby, if you think _I'm_ non-stop, then she would have put you in a coma."

Rachel just shakes her head, amused and trying not to feel uncomfortable about some other woman having touched Quinn in the past.

"But, she was - I don't know, she was good for me, I reckon. Taught me things; allowed me to explore my sexuality and use it to figure out who I am despite it, because of it and with it." She sips some of her water, slowly licking her lips. "She wasn't shy about her body, either. Or sex. She was European, you know? She told me that I didn't have to hide. That if I want it, then there's nothing wrong with that. It shouldn't matter that I'm a woman. I'm just as entitled to a healthy sex life as anyone else."

Rachel's foot slides along the floor to touch Quinn's, prodding it lightly. "You know I'm not complaining, right?"

Quinn looks away. "Would you tell me if it's too much?"

"I would," Rachel assures her; "which is why it's important that I haven't."

"Because you're as obsessed with me as I am with you?"

"Have you _seen_ you?"

Quinn smiles like it's a secret and it's a familiar expression that Rachel has come to love. "I won't always look like this, you know?"

"I won't, either," Rachel points out. "Better get off as many times before everything starts to sag."

"You just _get_ me," Quinn laughs, eating some more of her steak. It's such a massive cut that she's barely halfway through when Rachel has already finished her meal.

Rachel enjoys this relaxed side of Quinn. It's evident in every part of her body that she's on something like a holiday, and Rachel loves the look on her. Just, everything about her.

"I'm almost done, by the way," Quinn says.

Rachel shakes her head. "Don't worry," she says; "take your time."

Quinn looks momentarily confused, before she laughs. "No, not my dinner," she says. "With work, I mean."

"Oh?"

"Tomorrow, and maybe the next day, and then I'm all yours."

"You're already all mine."

Quinn grins at her. "That I am," she agrees. "As long as you know."

* * *

They visit the Kruger National Park next, spending several nights in two separate lodges and seeing every animal imaginable. Cheetahs and every type of deer there is. A pride of lions, and they even drive through so many elephants that Rachel has to force herself not to duck down and hide from them. She especially loves the zebras, and Quinn thinks the kudus are majestic.

The two of them go quiet whenever they see a giraffe, though, and Rachel wonders if Henry ever got to see one in real life.

Quinn obsesses over the birds they see, snapping endless pictures. She takes just as many pictures of Rachel, as well, always with this smile on her face that makes Rachel love her that bit more.

They meet so many people on their travels, both local and foreign. Quinn is sociable, sun-kissed and love-drunk, and she's purely magnetic. By now, Rachel should be used to the way people flock to her whenever she turns on the charm, but it still catches her off guard.

Everyone wants to talk to her, just to hear her speak. People invite her over to eat with them, constantly giving her alcohol and asking her about America. They're all appropriately surprised when she mentions she's a surgeon, and Rachel watches from the sidelines with her own glass of wine and falls in love with her along with everyone else.

Old people, and young.

Especially the tiny human beings, whom she buys ice creams for every day. Sometimes even twice a day.

Unlike Quinn, Rachel is more careful, spending time with some of the young mothers who watch Quinn interact with their children with amusement. There's one in a particular, whom she ends up sitting beside and watching with. She introduces herself as Michelle and says, "Those three are mine."

Rachel follows her gaze towards where Quinn is being chased by a young brunette girl, closely followed by a slightly older boy and an actual man.

"That's little Moira, and then Rob, and the man-child is Mickey," Michelle says, sounding amused.

"The blonde is mine," Rachel says, careful with her wording. She doesn't want to ruin Quinn's night if it just so happens there are homophobic people at this particular lodge. She's having such a great time, playing Hide and Seek with all the children in and around the various chalets.

"She's good with the kids," Michelle comments.

Rachel sips her wine. "She works with children," she says. "We both do."

"Paediatricians?"

Rachel raises her eyes in surprise. "I - surgeons, but yeah."

"She mentioned she was a doctor, but I wasn't sure what kind," she says. "I'm a dentist, myself, and my husband is a dermatologist." She laughs gently. "We actually met in medical school."

Rachel finds herself smiling, even though there's a part of her that figures Michelle must know she and Quinn aren't _just_ a pair of women on some joint vacation. "Quinn and I met at work," she says, anyway. "We did not get along at first."

"Mickey tried to get me to do his schoolwork for him," Michelle says with a laugh. "It amazes me the things they do to get our attention."

Rachel audibly swallows. "Yeah."

Michelle glances at her. "You don't have kids, do you?"

"Not yet, no," she says, eyes watching Quinn interact with little Moira, who seems to have an endless amount of energy, constantly bouncing on her toes. "One day, though." She doesn't mention that it won't be something they'll decide easily. It _can't_ be something that can just happen without significant planning. "She wants lots of them."

Michelle nods. "I'm convinced Mickey wants more," she says. "It's not going to happen, though. Two is more than enough."

"Three, you mean," Rachel says, and they share a laugh - especially when Mickey ends up tripping over an exposed root and landing on his behind. Moira's giggle is adorable, and Rob makes sure to snap a picture of his father as evidence.

"We're here with Mickey's family," Michelle says. "His sisters and their husbands who are visiting from the UK. I swear I'm the only one who's currently sober."

Rachel tips her wine glass in her direction. "For that, I must apologise."

"It's not nearly as much fun as I thought it'd be," she admits. "They're also terrible drunks, honestly. More of a handful than my actual children. It's a miracle when they actually end up sleeping in their own beds."

Rachel can't recall a time Quinn has been wilfully drunk in all the time she's known her. Not even at their wedding reception. She's a social drinker, sure, but there always seems to be a limit, and Rachel wonders if there's a reason for that for the first time.

"Is this your first time in South Africa?" Michelle asks after a moment.

"Mine, yes, but not Quinn's," she says. "Our first time at the Kruger, though."

"How are you liking it?"

"I'm loving it," she admits. "It's unlike anything I've ever experienced before."

"It's why we keep coming back," Michelle says. "Every year, like clockwork. Mickey books so long in advance that we plan our entire lives around it."

Rachel glances at Quinn. "I get the feeling we'll be back, too," she says, more to herself.

It's true, though. Quinn might not have expressed it verbally, but Rachel knows her well enough to know this is a place she's grown to love.

She merely confirms it when she returns to Rachel's side with Moira, both of them licking at orange popsicles and smiling toothily.

Rachel says, "You're going to spoil your dinner," at the same time Michelle says, "That doesn't mean you don't have to eat all your vegetables." The two women exchange a look and then burst out laughing.

Quinn looks between them, and then seems to smile that bit wider. She hands her unfinished popsicle to Rachel, who immediately takes it. Moira looks up at Quinn, and then at her popsicle, at her mother, and then back to Quinn. It takes a moment, but then she hands her own popsicle to Michelle, grins at them all, and then slips her hand into Quinn's and tugs her away.

Quinn just shoots Rachel a wink, and then Rachel and Michelle are left with unfinished popsicles and bemused smiles.

"What just happened?" Michelle asks her.

Rachel just shrugs as she brings the popsicle to her lips. "At this point, I don't ask questions," she says.

Michelle just laughs. "You'd think I would be at that point by now."

"Sometimes you need a reminder."

Michelle hums as she kicks back and brings her own popsicle to her lips. "Almost as good as wine," she comments, and Rachel's pretty sure she's found her favourite South African.

* * *

Rachel should expect it, but it still catches her by surprise when Quinn whispers, "I want a baby," in the dark of night. Quinn usually reveals these secrets and desires when she's half-asleep and comfortably wrapped around Rachel's body.

Rachel expects it, but she still has to force herself to breathe deeply.

"Not immediately," Quinn clarifies. "I know we have a lot going on at the moment, but I - God, Rachel, I want everything with you, and I - please tell me - "

Rachel reaches for her face, holding her cheeks and turning her head. "I already said yes, Quinn," she says. "I already said yes to everything."

Quinn sighs, her head turning into Rachel's touch.

"Let's open this hospital," she says. "Let's get settled and establish what we've spent all this time building, and then we can start trying for a baby, okay?"

Quinn nods slowly, and then smiles. "Well, I mean, we could start trying right now, couldn't we?"

Rachel laughs, so charmed by this woman who is constantly loving her. "I suppose we could, yes," she agrees, and then squeals when Quinn suddenly rolls onto her, sleep forgotten.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN** : Trigger warning for brief mention of past sexual assault.

* * *

**VI**

The last leg of their trip is along the Garden Route.

Michelle gives them a brief list of places to visit, Mickey gives them some wine, Rob gives them his favoured soccer ball, and Moira gives them tearful hugs. The seven-year-old holds onto Quinn for ages, and Michelle verbally wonders if Moira's just experienced her first crush and subsequent heartbreak.

Neither Rachel nor Quinn has explicitly confirmed the status of their relationship, but the few days they've spent around the lodge must have given people an idea. There are only a few ways to explain hand-holding and kisses to foreheads and cheeks.

Rachel says, "If ever you're in New York," and they both know the chances of meeting again are low. They do exchange email addresses, and then she and Quinn are on their way back to Johannesburg for their flight to a place called Port Elizabeth.

Frankly, Rachel didn't think she was what she would call a beach person. Growing up in Ohio didn't really offer much exposure, and she wouldn't really classify New York as a beach place, either. There's water, of course, but there's a beach culture that Rachel discovers only when she has her toes buried in the sand in Plettenberg Bay.

Quinn opts to do the driving herself, the two of them wanting to travel at their own pace and be able to stop and explore whenever they see anything of interest.

They visit more National Parks, getting to meet elephants and lions, and then encountering more ostriches than Rachel could have imagined. They go kayaking, which really seems like a good idea until they actually do it.

They spend an entire morning whale-watching in Hermanus, and then spend the afternoon at a vineyard picking berries and trying various wines.

It's something Rachel has noticed but never felt the need to mention. Quinn drinks only wine. Nothing else. Not even when they go out to bars with their friends. It's always just wine. Rachel didn't used to think there was some particular reason behind it beyond her preference, but she's constantly learning new things about her wife.

Rachel says, "Michelle mentioned that cocktail bar we should try when we get to Cape Town," and Quinn hums around the bite of roasted potato she's just put in her mouth.

They're sitting outside on a rock patio, overlooking the vineyard, and Rachel has already snapped far too many pictures of Quinn in this setting. She just looks so stunning, Clubmaster sunglasses over her eyes and a beautiful tan on her skin.

"But you don't even drink cocktails, do you?" Rachel observes, and Quinn's mouth twitches.

"I - no, I don't suppose I do."

Rachel leans forward slightly. "Too sweet for you?"

"Too strong," Quinn says instead. "I don't - I'm not a fan of - " she stops. "I just know I can handle my wine."

"You don't like getting drunk," Rachel guesses.

"I don't like not being in control of myself," she says, and visibly squirms as she says the words. She looks so deeply uncomfortable that even Rachel feels it.

"Quinn?"

She looks away, jaw clenching tightly. "You've never asked," she says to a point over Rachel's shoulder. "About Beth's father."

Rachel stiffens in her seat, blinking behind her own sunglasses. "No, I haven't."

"Thank you for that."

"I figured you would talk about it if you wanted to," she says. "I know there are things we don't mention to each other."

Quinn nods slowly, setting her cutlery against her plate with a soft clink. "I was drunk," she says after a moment. "That night. I was drunk."

Something in her words makes Rachel feel cold all over, a chill falling over her and stealing her appetite.

Quinn still won't look at her. "He was a year older, and he was my boyfriend's best friend, both of them destined for big, important things. I didn't - I wasn't aware he even liked me like that, but I learned quite quickly he never actually held any affection for me." She clears her throat. "I don't really remember drinking all that much, to be honest. Brett got me this random sweet mixed drink. My boyfriend. And then he kind of disappeared. It was - I mean, the guy, he was just a nice guy, you know? Charming. Bit of a player, but people generally liked him because he was such a nice guy. I even liked him. Just not - "

Rachel wants to reach out and touch her, but her body is so tightly coiled and she doesn't want to hinder her flow.

"We were at this party at his house, and, well, things... happened. Not good things." She audibly swallows, shifting in her seat as if the ghost of the memory has physically touched her. "Nobody believed that I didn't want it, because - I don't know, he's such a _nice guy_ , right? Brett was enraged, and my parents, they were so disappointed. And then I ended up pregnant, and I went through this state of - I can't even explain it."

Rachel aches. Every part of her just aches.

"I basically committed the _quadfecta_ , in my parents' eyes: premarital sex, adultery, false accusation and unplanned pregnancy." She laughs, and it's this ugly, dark sound that just doesn't suit her. "Though, I imagine it's that I essentially embarrassed them in front of their precious patrons that really made the decision for them."

Rachel doesn't want to think about Quinn at that time, lost and alone, only sixteen and forced into making life-altering decisions with no familial support. She doesn't want to wonder about what state Quinn must have been in. Just the thought of it - _God_.

"I stayed with a friend for a few months," Quinn continues after a moment. "But I was still in school with them, and I would see all the people who used to be mine around town, and I just - I needed out, and I knew I could never bring a baby into that kind of environment." Her food looks thoroughly abandoned, and Rachel feels bad about it for a moment. "Nadine suggested an adoption agency one night, and then I did my research.

"I wasn't sure what I was looking for, you know? I thought, if I could just get my baby somewhere safe, with someone who will love and take care of her, then I can figure things out for myself apart from her. Like, it wouldn't matter if I ended up living in some shitty apartment or ate ramen for the rest of my life, if I knew she was somewhere she could grow to be happy and healthy.

"Then I met Marcella, and she must have seen something in me, because she offered me more of a way out. She offered me this once-in-a-lifetime chance, and I took it. God, I grabbed for it with both hands and moved to Long Island without a second thought." Her laugh is one of relief now. "It was so weird, though. Like, so weird. I transferred schools, gave birth to a human baby, almost self-destructed, and somehow managed to get into Yale."

Rachel's brow furrows, because she's pretty sure Quinn mentioned she want to school in Boston.

"I couldn't afford it, of course, but I managed to get a partial scholarship to BCU, so I took out a loan and worked through the rest. I just - I wanted to become something, after having been made to feel like _nothing_ for so long."

It is amazing that Rachel can be married and completely in love with her, but not know any of this.

"I don't know if I'd say the rest is history, exactly, but I've moved on rather extremely from the teenager I once was," Quinn says. "I don't - I know people say their experiences don't define them or whatever, but I believe mine do. All of that; everything I've been through has brought me to this person sitting across from you, and I - I just - does any of it matter when all I want is to love you?"

Rachel realises, almost belatedly, that Quinn is genuinely asking her if it does matter. She's honestly so silly. "Of course not," her mouth says. "God, of course not, Quinn."

Quinn's smile is a little shaky, but it's present.

"Has it mattered before?"

Her smile slips. "Remember that woman I mentioned, from my intern year?"

As if Rachel needed more incentive to hate her.

"I think she would have been more accepting of Beth's existence if I hadn't mentioned her origins," Quinn explains. "But, whatever, you know, she obviously wasn't meant for me, and I found my forever person eventually."

Rachel reaches a hand out, offering it to Quinn.

Quinn takes it, squeezing gently.

"Does Beth know?"

Here, Quinn hesitates in a way that's very telling. "She knows parts of it," she finally confesses. "I don't know how to tell her she was conceived from violence."

Rachel closes her eyes at the reminder. "She's _grown_ with love, Quinn," she says. "That's something you and Marcella have given her."

"She'll hate me if I tell her now."

"No, she won't," Rachel assures her, and she truly believes it. Beth could never hate Quinn. It's borderline impossible, and Rachel knows this because she's tried. "She might be angry and hurt, but none of that will be in relation to herself."

Quinn frowns, clearly confused.

"It'll be _for_ _you_ ," Rachel clarifies. "Kind of what I'm feeling right now."

Quinn looks a little stumped by the revelation, but then she smiles. "You want to know who he is, so you can go and beat him up?"

"I would destroy him," Rachel says, and the severity in her tone makes Quinn's smile evaporate.

"I love you for that," Quinn says; "but it's not necessary. It's not okay, and I'm definitely not okay with what happened, but I've been through a lot of therapy to deal with it, and I've just about arrived at this point in my life where I know Beth and everything she brings to my life outweighs all the pain and loss that came with actually having her."

Rachel might cry. The tears even pool in her eyes, so she retracts her hand and wipes at her eyes.

"Baby," Quinn says, shaking her head. "I'm fine. I promise I'm fine."

"I know you are," Rachel says; "which is what is so amazing."

Quinn ducks her head, suddenly bashful, and Rachel loves her more in this moment than she ever has before.

"Just know that I love you," Rachel says. "And I'm proud of you, for all you've accomplished and for whom you've managed to become."

Quinn shakes her head. "We're both going to end up in tears, aren't we?"

"Because you're a sympathetic crier," she lightly accuses.

Quinn uses her napkin to dab below her eyes. "I'm a simple being, Dr Berry," she says with a shrug; "my wife cry, I cry."

* * *

The view is something spectacular.

Rachel already knew this, of course, but adding _Quinn_ to the view makes it infinitely better in every way possible. She's a little sweaty, wisps of hair stuck to her forehead, and a slight burn on the pears of her cheeks, but she looks so happy.

Now, in another life with another woman, Rachel might have strongly rejected any mention of a hike, but Quinn is Quinn and Rachel loves Quinn, which is really why she's currently breathless and a little sore while standing at the top of a massive piece of rock called Lion's Head.

Quinn takes pictures of every angle of their view, spinning right around and making sure to document Rachel's flushed face in the sunlight, the magical blue ocean behind her back.

"Beautiful," Quinn murmurs, looking at the screen of her camera. "If I weren't already married to you, I'd ask you to marry me right here right now."

"Reckon it'd be more romantic than the time you actually _did_ ask?"

Quinn seems to think hard about it. "I'm pretty sure we were both naked when I asked, so probably not."

"Oh, my God."

Quinn laughs. "It's a no-brainer, Rachel," she says. "Why are you even asking?"

"Romance does not equate to nakedness."

"Then we definitely haven't been doing it right."

"I think we do it just fine, thank you very much."

Quinn looks so stupidly pleased with herself that Rachel can't even be annoyed. "I love you," she says.

Rachel sticks out her tongue at her.

"Careful now," Quinn murmurs, waving her closer to take a selfie of the two of them. "I know exactly where that tongue has been."

Well.

"And where it's going to be tonight."

* * *

While Quinn is willing to spend copious amounts of money on upscale restaurants aplenty, she's really more interested in finding the hidden gems of local food in the city. Cape Town is such a mixture of religions and cultures and traditions and _colours_ , and there definitely isn't enough time for them to experience it all before their flight back to New York.

Quinn isn't necessarily slated to do any Foundation work while they're in the Mother City, but she sneaks out on a Thursday morning while Rachel is deep in slumber and visits a handful of clinics in one of the townships as a donor and volunteer.

Rachel can't even be mad, because this is who her wife is; it's what she does. Offering her time and her money and her skills.

Rachel would feel slightly guilty for it on a different trip, but she spends her morning in the hotel's spa instead, before the two of them pack in a tour of Robben Island to see Nelson Mandela's prison cell and a visit to the Two Ocean's Aquarium, before having dinner at the Shimmy Beach Club.

Quinn surprises her by ordering a cocktail - a Southern Vine - which she sips at a few times before offering it to Rachel while she reverts to a Chardonnay.

"Too strong?" Rachel asks, slightly concerned.

Quinn sucks at her teeth as she shakes her head. "Too sweet."

* * *

The two of them decided, prior to leaving on their trip, that they would keep contact with anyone back home at a minimum. The only people they really spoke to were Beth and Marcella, which is why Rachel expects to arrive back to -

Well.

Whatever she expected is nothing like what she finds.

As far as Rachel is aware, three weeks isn't really all that long. Sure, things can happen and changes can be implemented, but three weeks is only twenty-one days and what could possibly happen, right?

Rachel arrives at New Budapest Hospital on Monday morning to find Jesse waiting for her, looking both solemn and irritated in a way she's never seen him.

She doesn't even greet him. Just says, "What happened?"

Jesse reaches for her arm and drags her further into the hospital. "What happened," he mutters. "What happened, she asks."

She follows obediently, and then yelps when he suddenly tugs her into an on-call room and slams the door. "Jesse," she says, because they haven't been alone together like this since their first month of marriage.

"Rachel," he says, and then starts pacing. "Sam got fired."

"What?" Her voice is a little high when the word comes out, because - what?

"Your father."

"What did he do?"

Jesse runs a hand through his hair. "Okay. So."

"Should I be asking: what did _you_ do?"

Jesse stops walking. "I just did what you told me to do."

"What did I tell you to do?"

"Show him how I feel."

Rachel goes still. "Jesse, what on earth did you do?"

"You know how LeRoy has been slowly losing it, right?" Jesse starts. "There's been all this talk of doctors wanting to leave, and - "

"Sam was one of them?"

"I don't know," he says. "I don't think it even mattered to him. LeRoy wanted answers, because he knows Sam is Quinn's friend, and Santana wouldn't tell him a single thing."

Rachel can see it playing out the way he describes. Her father is particularly hell-bent on making this hospital nationally the best, and you need the best doctors to do that. If he started to think his prized possessions were bound to jump ship, he would want to know just whom he would have to replace, or work on improving contracts to keep them.

"Sam didn't even know anything," Jesse says; "but LeRoy wouldn't let up, and I - I kind of lost it."

Rachel blinks. "What do you mean you lost it?"

Jesse looks away guiltily. "I mean I went _Bohemian Rhapsody_ levels of dump-fest on our Chief right in front of everyone."

"I don't understand."

"I came to Sam's defence while LeRoy was unfairly berating him, and it turned into something ugly, borne of pent-up frustration I've held onto since before we were even married."

"Jesse."

"No," he says, voice harsh. "You don't know anything."

"What don't I know?"

Jesse turns away. "I loved you, you know," he says. "Not nearly as much as Quinn does, but I did. I would have done anything to keep you happy."

"Jesse."

"You had dreams elsewhere," Jesse says. "I know it, and your fathers knew it, and so did your mother."

Rachel stiffens. They don't talk about Shelby. They _never_ talk about her. She doesn't even mention the woman to Quinn.

"She didn't decide she didn't want you, Rachel," he says, and she'll wonder how he knows this at a later time. "The decision was never _hers_."

"I don't - what are you saying?"

"You were never going to become a Berry Legacy surgeon if Shelby stayed in your life and you know it."

There.

He doesn't even need to say the words, but he still says, "So they made sure she wouldn't be."

Subconsciously, Jesse is telling her something she already knows. It's a thought that's floated through her mind several times - more potently on those nights she spent cramming for exams instead of sleeping - but she's never quite latched onto it.

"LeRoy now knows I know, and he - "

"He fired Sam as a warning to you not to tell me," she finishes, and then steps back and drops onto the bed behind her. It's a lot to come back to, and she almost pinches herself to make sure she's not still in the sex coma she was in just two days ago.

Maybe it's just jet lag.

Jesse sits beside her. "Granted, he also caught Sam and Blaine having sex in a supply closet."

Rachel turns to look at him. "Jesse."

"Blaine is technically his superior, and you know LeRoy's claim to fame is his Trauma Centre, so obviously Blaine wasn't going anywhere, and Sam was considered dispensable."

Rachel clenches her jaw. "It doesn't make it right."

"It's not."

She sighs. "How's Sam doing?"

"I don't know," he says. "He's not quite talking to me at the moment."

Rachel pats his leg in sympathy. "I'm sorry," she says. "It doesn't - I don't know what I can do."

"If you let him know you know, he'll probably find a way to fire me, too."

Rachel shakes her head. "You bring in some of the most money for the hospital," she says. "He won't just let you go."

"And you _still_ grumble about Plastics."

Rachel bumps her shoulder against his. "It's just that it fits you so well."

"I resent that."

She sighs again. "Why is there so much drama in this place?" she asks. "I go away for three weeks and - "

"Your ex-husband basically kamikazes his lover's career?"

She hums. "I wouldn't worry too much about that," she says. "Quinn will make sure Sam lands on his feet." At least that's one less thing for them to worry about. "As for what to do about my father... well."

"Well, what?"

"The one thing he wants, besides the number one hospital in the city, is a Berry legacy, right?"

Jesse nods, trying to follow what she's trying to tell him.

"Well, Dr St James," she says; "It just so happens I have the power to take both those things away from him."

* * *

"You want to what?"

Rachel should probably improve her timing of revelations, because it's really a miracle Quinn doesn't spill her coffee all over herself.

Rachel hands her a dish towel. "Change my surname," she repeats. "I want to change it."

"To what?"

Rachel gives her a look, because it's almost as if she's being intentionally obtuse. "To yours, Quinn."

It's Quinn's turn to give her a particular look, as if she doesn't understand what Rachel is trying to tell her. "You want to be a Fabray?"

"I want to be yours," she says, which sounds kind of horrible when she says it like that. It's just - "I don't want to be his, anymore."

Quinn's expression softens with clarity. "Oh."

Their positions are familiar: Quinn seated at the kitchen table and Rachel standing nervously. There's a lot they have to talk about that happened at their respective workplaces today, but this feels like the most important.

Rachel moves to sit in her lap, which is another familiar position. "I haven't told you about my mother," she says. "Not really."

Quinn's hands hold her waist, keeping her steady.

"I didn't know her until I was in high school," she explains. "I mean, my parents informed me of her existence, of course, but it was a closed adoption and we weren't meant to meet until I was at least past eighteen." Her fingers play with the ends of Quinn's hair. "But then we met. She was a show choir director at one of our rival schools, and I - gosh, she was just so cool. I was desperate to know her, and for her to know me.

"We got along really well, you know, and I learned so much about musical theatre from her. I wasn't quite sold on pursuing medicine, even though I knew it was what my fathers both wanted. Then I met Shelby, and I knew I wanted music. I wanted to perform on stages and sing in arenas."

Quinn's right hand sneaks under her top, fingers soft against her skin, and it is a welcome comfort.

"But then she was just gone," Rachel tells her. "Disappeared into thin air, leaving a letter saying she made a mistake meeting me the way she did. She told me she thought she could be a mother to me, but she was wrong. She wasn't willing. She couldn't be what I needed, apparently. I just wasn't what she was expecting. I wasn't what she wanted." She takes a breath, refusing to give into the emotions behind that memory. "Then I wanted nothing to do with her, or with music, and I just had it confirmed that it was all by design."

Quinn's eyebrows rise in surprise, before they knit together in barely-suppressed rage.

"I eventually chose medicine," Rachel says. "Or, that's what it looked like."

" _Rachel_."

"I love my job," she says. "I love what I do more than anything. I have no regrets about any of it, and I never will."

"But..."

"But I want it to be mine," she says, and her voice cracks. "It's supposed to be mine."

Quinn holds her close, her forehead resting against Rachel's collarbone. "Then why would you want it to be mine?" she murmurs.

Rachel rests her head against hers, eyes closing. "Because I love you," she whispers.

"And I love you," Quinn says. "But you know as well as I do that _you_ should be _yours_ , my love."

"It's just a surname."

Quinn lifts her head. "Maybe we should ditch both our surnames," she blurts, as if the thought has just popped up in her head. "Why would you want to be a Fabray, anyway?"

"Because _you're_ a Fabray."

"Baby, we can be anything we want to be," Quinn tells her. "You said it yourself: it's just a surname."

Rachel kisses her cheek. "Just randomly pick a new one, you mean?"

"Why not?" Quinn says. "And, I mean, it doesn't have to be random. We can be Spencers."

As lovely as that sentiment sounds, Rachel doesn't think going into a Spencer Foundation hospital with a changed surname to Spencer would be a smart thing to do. If Quinn had claimed the name earlier, maybe it would make more sense.

Quinn tilts her head to the side. "Better yet," she says; "we could be Vegas like Marcella and Beth. Even Garcias. You and me, we could be anything."

"Everything," Rachel murmurs, and Quinn kisses her cheek. "I do love you, you know?"

"I know."

"And, I do want to be yours, because it's a _choice_ I'm making," she says. "I know women who've stuck it to the patriarchy and all that by keeping their own surnames instead of taking their husbands, but you're basically choosing one man's - your father's - over another man's, and doesn't that defeat the purpose?"

Quinn hums. "I'm not a man."

"Believe me, I'm aware."

Quinn raises her eyebrows, hearing something specific in her voice. It's not foreign for Rachel to be the one to initiate sex, but it happens less often than the other way around. "You want me," Quinn lightly accuses, looking amused.

"I always want you," Rachel assures her. "Also, if you're a Fabray, I want to be a Fabray. I want our children to have _our_ name. I don't want them to be touched by the name Berry. Not when it comes with the expectation to be part of a legacy I've been manipulated into."

"Are you sure?"

She nods. "I didn't think about it at the time, but the first thing my father asked me after I told him we were married is if I was still Dr Berry."

Quinn's jaw clenches, and Rachel loves her sympathetic anger.

"This is what I've chosen," Rachel says. "You are whom I've chosen, and I think that makes all the difference."

Quinn studies her face for a moment, searching for any signs of uncertainty. "Okay," she finally says.

"Okay," she returns. "Now, take me to bed."

Quinn glances at her cup of coffee, and then up at the ceiling. She groans. "Baby, I can't."

"Wow," Rachel jokes; "I honestly didn't know if I would ever hear you say those words."

Quinn fakes a laugh. "Sam is on his way over," she explains. "We're going to talk shop, and I'd really like to be able to take my time with you."

"Hmm."

"Don't do that," Quinn says. "Don't pull that face. That's your 'I'm-going-to-tease-you-to-within-an-inch-of-your-life' face. Put it away."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she says, just a little too innocently, as she presses a kiss to her cheek and then gets to her feet. "I'll just be in our bedroom, lying down. Relaxing. Doing things, maybe. By myself."

Quinn lets out a long-suffering sigh. "You're evil, woman."

Rachel just laughs, throwing a wink over her shoulder. "Gonna do something about it?" she challenges, continuing on her way out of the kitchen. And then shrieking in surprise when Quinn suddenly lunges for her, chasing her all the way to their bedroom.

Sam ends up having to wait a long, long time.

* * *

Rachel, in all honesty, doesn't expect Sam to stay as long as he does. She remains holed up in their bedroom for almost two hours after Quinn goes to meet and talk with him in their living area, but she eventually gets hungry and decides a trip to the kitchen is needed.

It's just a shame she actually has to get dressed. She throws on one of Quinn's t-shirts and a pair of her own leggings. Her feet are bare, hair pulled into a messy ponytail, and phone in hand.

Maybe she'll warm up some soup.

She makes her way to the kitchen as quietly as she can. She doesn't actually hear voices as she makes her way through the apartment and she slips right into the kitchen, relieved not to encounter either Sam or Quinn... only to come face-to-face with Sam Evans.

He's just standing there, cup of coffee in his hand and leaning against a counter.

Rachel startles at the sight of him, and he just looks amused by her reaction. "I - hello, Sam," she says.

"Evening, Rachel," he says with a smile. "Want some coffee?"

She blinks. "Um, sure."

He turns, finds a second cup, and then pours coffee from the pot. She remains where she is, caught off guard. "Quinn's fetching dinner, apparently," he explains. "If you were wondering where she was. She mentioned you two hadn't actually had dinner yet."

Because they were too busy eating each other.

"Do you take sugar?" he asks. "Milk?"

Rachel probably isn't going to be drinking the coffee. She usually doesn't consume caffeine this late unless there's a sex marathon on the table, so she says, "Just like that is fine, thank you."

Sam crosses the kitchen to hand it to her, and it is during the exchange that she says, "I'm sorry about my father."

Sam freezes.

She takes the cup and steps back, leaning against the counter behind her. "He did a shitty thing. I suppose doing shitty things runs in my family."

Sam nods once, and then returns to his own coffee. "I think I'll be okay," he says. "I already had Fellowship offers. As long as I still get to take my Boards, I don't think it's the worst thing to happen to me."

"Doesn't make it right."

"No, it doesn't."

Rachel looks away, visibly debating over the merit of saying her next words. Jesse can kill her later. She says, "He really likes you, you know." She waits a beat. "He might even love you."

Sam looks as if he would rather be talking about literally anything else in the world. "Did he tell you that?" he asks.

"He didn't have to."

Sam sighs. "I don't think I've been fair to him," he admits, and it becomes increasingly clear she and Sam have never really _talked_ before. Least of all about their potential relationships. "I almost feel as if I forced him into doing something to prove himself to me, and then it all ended in disaster for us both." He runs a hand through his hair. "And Blaine. God, don't even get my started on Blaine."

Rachel manages a smile. "You're popular, Sam."

"I'm suddenly pretty glad I no longer work there," he says. "It was already a complicated situation before Jesse basically announced us to the entire hospital. It was literally all everyone could talk about for those few days. I don't know how you can handle all the gossip about you, and about Quinn, every single day."

"It's - yeah, it's not easy," she says. "I want to say it's something you can get used to, but that would be a lie."

"It's worse than high school."

"I'm hoping HG Memorial will be a better work environment," she comments lightly, and Sam smiles.

"So, you _are_ moving over," he states.

She laughs. "Was it ever in doubt?"

Sam opens his mouth to reply, but closes it when they hear the front door open and Quinn appears with two bags of food. Rachel is suddenly very aware of how hungry she actually is.

Quinn grins widely when she sees her. "Hungry?" she asks, lifting the bags to her chin. "Thought so."

Rachel just waves her hands, beckoning her closer.

"Tell me how much you love me," Quinn teases, closing the door behind her and walking straight to Rachel. She presses a kiss to her cheek.

"Only if you brought me what I think you brought me."

"I have."

Rachel can practically smell the Tom Yum soup she was craving. How Quinn even knew that; she'll never know. "I love you," she says.

Quinn hums. "How much?"

Rachel reaches out to touch her, her next words on the tip of her tongue.

Only, Sam clears his throat, merely reminding them he's still there. "My God," he says; "Beth was right: you two _are_ gross."

And, really, they can't even dispute it.

* * *

Two weeks later, she and Quinn visit the Henry Garcia Memorial Hospital for Children with the knowledge they're little more than a month away from the grand opening. It's basically complete, just left with a few finer finishings and maintenance. Supplies have been purchased and stored, and forms and patient systems have been printed and created.

Some doctors have even begun moving into their assigned offices if they have them, and both Quinn and Rachel visit their own respective ones for the first time.

It is a fascinating thing to see her name on a plaque at the side of her door. Her _name_.

_Dr Rachel Fabray, M.D._

_Head of Paediatric General Surgery_

She grins rather stupidly when she sees it, and then kisses Quinn silly once they're inside. It'll take a bit of getting used to, she's sure, but she has no regrets about the change. She's going to establish herself separate to her father here, but she likes the idea of being connected to Quinn this way.

Ordinarily, Quinn wouldn't have her own office, but she's also an administrator - whatever that means - so she needs a place to keep her stuff. That's how Quinn describes it when Rachel asks, and she doesn't demand more of an explanation beyond the fact Quinn represents the Spencer Foundation's official presence in the hospital, on top of being a surgeon.

They explore the various floors and wings together, gushing over all the new equipment and admiring how their ideas have been made a reality. Rachel is most proud of the Surgical Wing, all six operating rooms top-of-the-line and delightfully functional. She can't wait to get started. To make a difference.

Quinn is obviously most excited about her Trauma Centre. It's designed by her hand, the flow and spacing exactly as she wanted. They don't expect to have similar emergency traffic to other hospitals, given they're a Children's hospital, but that doesn't mean Quinn isn't going to strive to run the best Emergency Room in the damn city. Maybe even the state.

Emergency Services is just one branch they're focused on. Baby and Child, Chronic Illness and Mental Health are some of the other branches, all of them aimed at providing complete and comprehensive care for all their patients. Within Baby and Child, there are further divided departments based on various paediatric specialties, the hospital filled with some of the best medical minds in their fields. Doctors collected from all over the country; even all over the world.

Rachel is prouder of what they've managed to do than she's been of anything else, and she plans to tell Quinn every single day.

* * *

It is while they're in the cafeteria that they meet Cassandra July.

If Rachel is being honest, she almost doesn't recognise the woman when she approaches the pair of them. She's obviously already familiar with Quinn, and there's an awkward moment where Quinn can't decide if she has to introduce Rachel when she's aware the two women must already know each other.

"Berry," Cassandra says. "Didn't think I'd see you again."

Rachel glances at Quinn for a beat, and then forces a smile. "Still trying to save the world," she says.

"Uh huh." Cassandra looks at Quinn. "You married a Berry, I see."

"I go by Fabray now," Rachel informs her, not willing to be ignored while she's standing right there. It feels good to say it, even if she's still getting used to it.

Cassandra looks at her, and Rachel would think she looked mildly impressed if she weren't so surprised. "Well, well," she says, and, yip, she definitely sounds impressed. "That's bold," she comments. "What does your father think about that?"

It's the first time Rachel wonders if Cassandra's initial hostility was all linked to her father instead of her.

Huh.

She shrugs. "That's his problem."

Cassandra smiles like it's a secret, and Rachel is suitably thrown by just how similar the expression is to Quinn's. Wow. Okay. "I think we're going to do a lot of good here," she says. "I find I'm looking forward to it."

Quinn is weirdly quiet throughout the entire interaction, and then she's even more subdued as they finish their hospital tour and start for home. It isn't stress - well, it isn't _solely_ stress - but it's obvious she's thinking about something serious.

Rachel pulls them into a coffee shop, because coffee usually loosens Quinn up.

This time, though, it rather makes her more tense, which just confuses Rachel even more. She knows she's going to have to ask. There's no escaping it, really. She has to ask the question.

They find a table with their drinks and sit for nine minutes before Quinn says, "Did anything ever happen between the two of you?"

Rachel doesn't quite follow what she's asking, until she just does. Oh.

 _Oh_.

Quinn is - God, Quinn is jealous.

"No, nothing ever happened," she says. "We just never got along."

"But you wanted it to?"

Rachel opens her mouth to deny it, but she can't realistically do that. "If I did, I wasn't aware of it at the time," she admits. "I think she just enjoys pushing my buttons. I was quite different when I was in her residency program."

"How so?"

"Not okay," she says. "Not happy. Disillusioned. A little lost." She clears her throat. "She knew me before I declared Paeds. She knew me before I found my place." Her foot slides along the floor, seeking Quinn's. "She knew me before I found you, and you have made all the difference."

Quinn nods slowly, digesting the words.

"I think a lot of her animosity stemmed from the fact I'm a Berry," she says. "It might be a surgery legacy surname, but not everything attached to it is good."

"Baby, you're no longer a Berry."

She smiles, pleased. "No, I'm not," she confirms. "I think it's time I let my father know."

Quinn grins, perking up. "You're also going to have to tell him you're terminating your contract."

"His head is going to explode."

"What I would give to be a fly on the wall for that conversation."

Rachel laughs softly. "I'll _FaceTime_ you and put you in my pocket."

Quinn must think she's joking, because she also laughs and then offers no rebuttal or approval. But Rachel isn't joking. Why would she joke about a thing like that? That's why she got married. To share her life with her partner, all the bad and all the good things.

But, more importantly, to mess with their in-laws.

* * *

Of course, it helps that Quinn determines her own schedule at the moment, so she answers when Rachel calls as she's on her way to her father's office the next day. They've talked about it a bit more, and Rachel now has an arsenal of ammunition to use against her father. At this point, she just wants to get out of New Budapest with her reputation and career still intact.

Rachel finds him in his office when she goes looking. They haven't spoken in so long; she can't remember the last time they had a meaningful conversation. Maybe at the wedding?

She can't say a lot has changed from her youth. Being the only daughter of surgeons can be lonely. She's a lot closer to Hiram, who shifted to private practice when she was in high school and so had more time to spend with her. After the divorce, LeRoy moved to New York to further his own career, and Rachel eventually followed.

At first, they worked independent of each other, in different hospitals and in separate specialties. But she's always been a Berry, and LeRoy Berry is a name known in the surgical world.

Now, so will Fabray.

Rachel knocks on his door and steps inside. "Got a minute?"

LeRoy looks reluctant, because he probably has an idea of what this conversation must be about. If it's not about Jesse, it's about her job, and both things don't bode well for their relationship.

Rachel closes the door behind her when he waves her further inside. She has no idea how long this is going to take, but they probably need the illusion of privacy. She moves to sit in one of the chairs opposite his desk, tucks her legs under the chair and opens her mouth, surprising herself with the words she actually ends up saying.

"Why did you and Dad get divorced?"

If the question surprises him as well, he doesn't let it show. Surgeons are generally unflappable, but neurosurgeons especially. It can be annoying at times. "Excuse me?"

"Why did you and Dad get divorced?" she asks again, choosing to roll with this line of questioning. It'll all tie together in the end, but she can just imagine Quinn's confusion. "It was while I was a freshman in college, but things really started to get bad my senior year of high school. What happened?"

LeRoy looks predictably stumped, and she expects him to feed her something of a lie, which is why it's a surprise when he doesn't.

"We didn't see eye-to-eye about some important things," he finally says.

"To do with me."

He clears his throat. "He wasn't on board with what I've had to do to ensure you continue to have a successful future."

It's not a confirmation of what she already knows, but it's enough. It's enough that her heart goes still in her chest, wondering just what happened between him, Shelby and Hiram to get her to this exact point in her life.

Does it even matter?

Whatever happened, she's already here. This is her life, and it's not a terrible one. In fact, it's actually pretty good. She has an enviable career, where she gets to do good every day. She has a roof over her head and food in her fridge. She has her health.

But, most importantly, she has love.

She has Quinn.

Suddenly, none of that other stuff even matters. Everything she's prepared. Everything she thought she wanted to say to him; throw in his face. It just doesn't matter.

With her lips pressed into a thin line, Rachel presents the envelope she has with her. "It's my resignation," she says when he just stares at it. "I'll serve my one-month notice, transition my department to work without me and even find you a replacement if you want, and then I'll be gone."

"Gone," he echoes, unmoving. "Gone where?"

"You already know."

His gaze stays on her for a long, long time. "You asked me why," he says. "Why I made Quinn be the one to tell you. Why I didn't do it myself."

Before today, Rachel couldn't have figured it out for herself, but it's clear now. "It's because you knew I was already in love with her," she says. "You knew I wouldn't leave New Budapest, if it was her who told me, but I would leave, if it were you. All you've wanted was to keep me here."

"She wasn't meant to take you away."

"She's not taking me anywhere," she says. "Quinn has never forced me into anything I didn't want to do." The _unlike you_ is left unsaid, but they both know it's there. "Instead, she's hurt herself keeping your truths from me, to save me from the pain of knowing exactly what you've done." She pauses. "Apparently, that's a trait I look for in a spouse," she adds, which has Jesse written all over it.

LeRoy still doesn't move to take the letter from her.

"Please don't fight this, Daddy," she says, and she sounds so tired. Because she is. She's exhausted from this place. "I don't want this to be whom we are to each other, and there is no way for our relationship to recover if I stay. We're a family that does shitty things, apparently, but maybe we can stop now."

His jaw clenches. "You aren't going to be the only doctor I lose," he says. "I'm just supposed to accept that?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because they're not your kind of doctors, anyway."

"And what kind of doctor is that?"

"The kind that actually tries."

LeRoy's gaze snaps up, and Rachel can only imagine what must be going through Quinn's mind, squirrelled away in Rachel's pocket, hearing all of this. "She told you."

"She's my wife. Of course she told me."

"That girl should never have - "

"Beth," Rachel interrupts. " _That girl_ 's name is Beth."

His mouth opens and closes, and then opens again. "There is no way she should have survived," LeRoy says, and there's something in his voice she's never heard before. Not quite wonder, but something else. Maybe envy. "That tumour should have killed her."

"It didn't."

"No, it didn't," he breathes. "Do you know what Quinn told me? After." His gaze drifts to the left, taking him somewhere else for a moment. Into some memory. "She said, 'I would have burned this place to the ground if you'd let her die,' and I believed her."

"Why would you hire her, then?" Rachel asks, because she's truly curious to know. Why would he bring her right back here?

"I didn't remember her," he reveals, which just confirms Quinn's assumptions. His shoulders slump minutely. "Beth wasn't meant to survive," he says. "I knew it. We _all_ knew it. I would have just caused her more pain if I'd - " he stops, looks a little helpless. "There was no chance."

"Well, you were obviously wrong," she says, her tone heavy. Beth survived, somehow, and it's not the first time Rachel wonders why it is Quinn has never explained exactly how that happened.

LeRoy looks at her. "I suppose I was," he agrees, and then takes the envelope from her. "That's it, huh? Nothing I can say or do to keep you here?"

"I think you've done more than enough," she states.

"Can you blame me?" he asks, and the answer is simple.

Yes.

Rachel definitely can.

She also doesn't think she has it in her to be gracious with her father in this moment. Not yet. Not when things are constantly being revealed and the revelations are still fresh. She has a right to her anger. He basically derailed her entire life and ambitions to achieve something _through_ her.

Some legacy.

Some joint-Berry dynasty.

Well.

She almost wants to hold onto her news about now being a Fabray. It feels disingenuous to her wife and her marriage to use it to spite her father. Changing her name is a decision she's made separate from how it would affect her father, even if it was initially prompted by him.

"I'll approve your resignation," LeRoy finally says, and then raises his eyebrows. "Or would you rather I fire you?"

In another life, she might have enjoyed the joke, but it feels too out of place. Too soon.

He must read it in her expression because he sighs heavily. "You're dismissed, Dr Berry."

"Actually," she says, and she closes her eyes for a moment, because this feels significant; "It's Dr Fabray."

It's indescribable, just what happens to his face, and all she thinks is that it's a shame Quinn doesn't actually get to _see_ it. Jaw dropping, eyes widening and face ashen. His expression, though priceless, acts as a confirmation of _something_.

She's not entirely sure what, but she didn't regret her decision, and she's definitely not going to start now.

"Rachel," he says, and his voice. God, his _voice_. "Why would you - you can't."

She gets to her feet. "You changed yours," she reminds him.

"My family didn't _want_ me," he tells her. "I found my own."

It would be a shitty thing to do, but all she wants to say is, _and I've found my own, too._

Again, it doesn't need to be said aloud, because he must read it all over her face. "Oh."

"Until recently, a lot of things have been chosen for me," she says, and there's a lot more behind those words when it comes to the two of them. "The one thing I've chosen for myself is my wife."

It feels good to say the words; to put them in the Universe and have them be true.

LeRoy has nothing to say in response to that, so Rachel takes it as a sign to leave. She turns, walks towards the door, but stops when he says her name, hand frozen on the door handle.

"If you leave, you know you can't come back here," he says.

He doesn't know, of course, that her stake in the Henry Garcia Memorial Hospital for Children is equal to Quinn's, even if the blonde has established herself as the face of the hospital's partnership with the Spencer Foundation. He can't know that her career and life is squared away somewhere else, offering her endless security barring a catastrophe.

"I know," she says, and then she walks out. Her steps are slow, steady, and she gets a few metres away before she's reaching into her pocket for her phone and lifting it to her ear. "Quinn, are you there?"

"I'm here," Quinn immediately responds. "That - yeah, that didn't sound like it went to plan. Are you okay?"

She doesn't think she's lying when she says, "Yeah, I think I'm okay."

"Okay."

"Thank you."

"I didn't even do anything."

That's where she's wrong, of course, because she's done so much. So much she won't ever even know. "I'll see you at home?"

"I'll even pick up those kebab things you're so fond of on my way," she says, and Rachel is reminded all over again that she's made all the right choices when it comes to Quinn Fabray.

* * *

Quinn manages to beat her home, already setting up their dinner at the kitchen table. It smells good, and Rachel would definitely be paying more attention to the grumbling of her own stomach if all Quinn was wearing wasn't just an apron.

 _Just_ an apron.

She's completely naked beneath it, and Rachel stands and watches her move around their space with ease. She's beautiful and perfect and she's _hers_.

"Quinn," she says, and Quinn spins around, already grinning. "What are you wearing?"

Quinn's grin is so much forced innocence. "I should just tell you that if these kebabs weren't so fucking spicy, I might have even let you eat them off my body."

Rachel laughs, a little uncontrollably, because how is this her life that she gets to come home to this incredible woman?

Quinn looks bemused but pleased. And then alarmed when Rachel's laughter turns into tears. They catch them both off guard, and then Quinn is crossing the space between them.

"Rachel," Quinn says, hands reaching out. "I mean, if you want to do it that badly, I'm sure my nipples will survive the paprika."

And now she's crying _and laughing_ , and she must look quite the sight. She steps into Quinn's space and buries her face in her pale neck, wrapping arms around her waist.

"Please tell me you're actually okay," Quinn murmurs. "You said you were okay."

"I am," she says, because she _is_. That's the part that's caught her so off guard. She knows she still has difficult conversations to have. With LeRoy, at some point, but with Hiram, too. And Shelby.

Quinn kisses her hair, and Rachel's hands slide along her bare back. "You're okay," Quinn says, her left hand smoothing over Rachel's hair. "You're okay."

"Because I have you?"

Quinn hums, and then says, "Because _I_ have _you_."

Rachel pulls back to be able to look at her face. "You got me kebabs," she says. "And you're naked."

"I'm basically the perfect wife, aren't I?"

Rachel's kisses her grin, unable to resist. "You already anticipated I'd be hungry and horny, huh?"

Quinn laughs, head tilting back and revealing her unfairly gorgeous neck. "And not necessarily in that order," she mocks quietly.

Rachel kisses her neck, and then sinks her teeth into her skin, enjoying the way Quinn shudders in her arms. "I can have my wife and my dinner, and eat them both, too."

"Oh, my God."

Rachel smiles with mischief, hands sliding downwards. She has all these dirty things she wants to say and do, but she rather just says, "Thank you," with all the sincerity she feels.

Quinn's smile softens. "I never want you to regret your choices," she whispers.

Rachel shakes her head, because Quinn is really just so silly. As if she could have any regrets about where they've managed to end up. "I love you," she says, saving that conversation for another day.

Now, though, she kisses Quinn sweetly, and then lets her take her to bed.

The kebabs come along, too.


	7. Chapter 7

**VII**

Quinn's stress levels skyrocket the closer they get to the grand opening of the hospital, and it's as if her wife just... disappears.

She's physically present, of course, but she's quiet and thoughtful with her mind constantly elsewhere, and Rachel can't quite figure out how to get through to her when filmed surgeries don't work.

Well.

There's always sex.

Instead, Rachel sweeps all of Quinn's papers aside and plonks herself in her lap. She wraps her arms around Quinn's neck and turns her head to face her. "Quinn," she says.

"My love."

"Can I tell you about my mother?"

Quinn's gaze snaps up, eyes a little wide. "You can tell me anything, Rachel; you know that."

The room is quiet around them, their hearts beating steadily in their chests. "I look a lot like her, you know," she says, voice low, as if she's telling a secret. "If we stand near each other, you can tell we're related." Her fingers slide into Quinn's hair, playing with a few loose strands. "I thought she was magic when I first met her. Someone unreal. Like, there was no way she could be mine, you know? How could I have come from her?"

Quinn's left hand settles on her back. It's warm and comforting, calming in a way that Quinn's presence usually is. "Baby, you are amazing," she says with zero hesitance.

"You're cute."

Quinn looks immensely pleased with herself, and it truly is the most adorable thing.

"I was a strange teenager," Rachel reveals, and Quinn grins at her. "I'm aware I'm still a strange _adult_ , but I was - I was caught in this confusing position of wanting to pursue something I wasn't sure I would be allowed to." This entire situation has brought up memories of childhood and high school she would have loved to leave locked away.

Quinn can sense her distress, Rachel can tell. Her brow creases from worry in that way that makes Rachel's heart flutter, because this woman cares in a way her own life experiences should have robbed her of.

"I liked to sing, did you know that?"

Quinn gives her a rather pointed look, because it's a silly question and they both know it. While she doesn't sing all the time, she _does_ sing. In the shower, while she's making tea, when she's reading medical journals, and more commonly when her little patients request it of her.

It doesn't bring her the same joy it once did, tinged by heartbreak courtesy of a mother who stole dreams from her she probably wasn't even aware she'd given her.

Of a father who somehow orchestrated the entire thing.

"Do you ever think about what you'd be if you weren't a doctor?" Rachel asks, and what she's really asking is what would Quinn be doing if Beth never got sick.

Quinn's head tilts to the side in thought. "I wanted to be a writer," she admits after a moment. "I spent so much time living in other people's worlds when I was trying to escape my own that I thought it was something I'd like to do for others."

Rachel frowns. "Wait," she says; "you wanted to become a writer to _help_ people?"

Quinn looks a little bemused. "Well, yes," she answers, as if it's the simplest thing in the world. "Why else would we do anything?"

Rachel gets reminded of Quinn's heart on a daily basis, and it honestly baffles her how her family or those insignificant people from her hometown could have ever hurt her. What stupidity must be in _that_ water for them to let her go?

"I don't know how I ever thought you were a narcissistic asshole," Rachel says, more to herself than anything, and Quinn looks predictably affronted.

"Excuse me?"

Rachel laughs, automatically pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I'm sorry," she says. "It's just - God, you were such a - "

"Do _not_ finish that sentence."

"Or what?"

Quinn gets this look in her eye, and Rachel just knows her attempt to distract Quinn from her building stress with conversation has reverted to her initial solution.

Sex.

Rachel has been worried, of course, that Quinn's sex drive will wane. It's expected. The first year of marriage is supposed to be a rollercoaster, and she's just relieved this marriage looks to be lasting longer than her first one.

This one is on track to last forever.

* * *

It's somewhere between orgasm _two_ and _three_ , when Rachel is desperately trying to catch her breath, that she tugs on Quinn's hair and says, "I was _trying_ to tell you something important."

Quinn just hums, nosing at Rachel's hipbone.

"I want you to meet her."

Quinn freezes. "What?"

"I was telling you about my mother," Rachel says. "We have this complicated history, and we've never quite managed to recover from it. But she gets these moments when her guilt must rear its ugly head, and she calls me up and we end up getting lunch and discussing the highlights of our lives as if we're actually _not_ complete strangers, and I - I want you to meet her."

Quinn looks at her for a long while, eyes searching. "Okay," she finally says. "As long as you're sure."

She's not, but she still smiles and pulls Quinn into another kiss.

Four and five, and six and seven.

* * *

Rachel picks a day she knows Quinn will be working late and takes a trip to Long Island to meet Beth after she lets out of school. It's an impromptu visit, and she manages to surprise the teenager enough that Beth actually squeals in surprise when she sees her.

Rachel wants to give Beth the opportunity to play off her presence as nothing important, but Beth drags her to meet her friends, introducing her as Quinn's wife, Dr Rachel Fabray.

Just from the interaction alone, Rachel knows Beth's friends - Thomas, Janice and Vidya - are disappointed by the continued truth that Quinn is officially off the market. It's amusing to Rachel, and Beth confirms her suspicions when she casually mentions that Vidya cried actual tears when Beth told her about the nuptials as they're leaving.

"I mean, how embarrassing is that?" Beth asks. "Like, they all have these crushes on both my mom and Quinn. Janice calls them a Bisexual's Dream, _with_ the capital letters." She glances at Rachel. "You've probably also just joined the ranks."

Rachel just laughs, because she can't realistically blame those kids. She'd be heartbroken too, if she wasn't with Quinn.

In fact, she _was_ heartbroken when they were separated.

Beth shrugs. "Anyway, not that it's not great to see you and all, but what are you doing here?"

Rachel wouldn't say she's nervous, exactly, but she's thought about this for a while, and she's curious. "I wanted to ask you something," she says. "About what you remember of my father."

Beth's expression freezes on her face. "Oh."

Rachel follows as Beth leads her to a nearby café, where she quietly orders a coffee for herself and a green tea for Rachel. She pays, shaking her head when Rachel offers, and then the two of them find a table and stare at each other for a full minute.

Eventually, Beth says, "What I remember is he was very tall," quietly enough that Rachel has to lean forward to hear her properly. "I mean, I was ten, and I remembered what it was like the first time, but not really. Just, Mom was a mess, and Quinn used to look at me as if she would never see me again. There's just that thing her face does, when she knows her worst nightmares are coming true."

Rachel has seen that expression on her face before. The day Finn died; that day Rachel shoved her so far away that it's still a miracle she came back.

"Quinn found an oncology specialist surgeon person," Beth says. "Dr Holly. She was nice." She gets a faraway look in her eyes. "I sometimes think that she and Mom would have actually got together if she wasn't my doctor." She laughs to herself. "I always had these fantasies, like, if I did end up dying, of my mothers just... finding their people, if they weren't going to end up together." She looks at Rachel. "You've exceeded my expectations, Rachel."

Rachel feels heat on her cheeks. She's getting far more than she thought she would coming here.

Beth clears her throat. "Anyway, Dr Holly did some things, I guess. There was a surgery, and some trial, I guess, and then chemo and radiation. I don't - I don't really remember the details, but Quinn should. You should ask her."

Rachel looks away. "She's so stressed at the moment," she deflects. "I'm just - I've been dealing with some things when it comes to my parents, and it's brought up things I'm trying to figure out. I don't really want to bother her with all of it just yet."

Beth meets her gaze. "I get that," she says, and her tone is heavy. "I wonder about my own, too."

Rachel holds her breath. Oh no. Wait. No.

"I assume Quinn's told you about when I was born?"

Rachel knows she needs to steer them away from this topic as quickly and seamlessly as possible, because the last thing Quinn needs is Beth asking more questions about her origins. "I - yes."

"So you know exactly what she's hidden from me?"

"Beth," she sighs.

"She has a tell," Beth says. "Honestly, it's like she's an open book sometimes, and I know her well enough to pick up on these things."

"Beth."

"It's bad, isn't it?"

Rachel looks away. God, Quinn is going to kill her. "Beth," she says again.

Beth's jaw clenches, as if just the sound of her name is confirmation of her worst thoughts. "He hurt her, didn't he?"

" _Beth_."

She makes tight fists of her hands. "Why wouldn't she just tell me?" she asks. "I'm old enough now."

Rachel sighs. "Maybe, in the beginning, it was about protecting you," she says; "but now it's about protecting herself."

Beth seems to ponder that, and then nods in something like understanding. Rachel's words hang there between them, both heavy and light, and she internally panics about how she's going to tell Quinn that Beth has always known there was more to her birth, and Rachel just confirmed it without actually confirming it.

"You have a tell, too," Beth says after a moment. "I don't know how you give people bad news."

Rachel shakes her head. "I'm not a doctor right now, Beth."

"What are you?"

Rachel opens her mouth, and then immediately closes it. What is she, indeed? They've never really talked about it. She's Quinn's wife. That's her role when it comes to Beth: she's Beth's biological mother's wife.

"I'm not sure," Rachel finally says. "All I know is you are very important to me, and I've grown to love you like family." It's Beth's turn to blush. "I'll always be in your corner, and I'll even help you convince Quinn and Marcella to let you go to Florida for Spring Break."

Beth laughs unexpectedly, and then holds out a fist.

After a moment, Rachel bumps it with her own. "Just know I'm around, okay?"

"Okay."

Rachel focuses her attention on her lukewarm tea, still panicking over Quinn's potential reaction to Beth's new knowledge. Maybe she should confess during sex. Quinn's normally more understanding after a few orgasms.

"I won't tell her I know," Beth says, and Rachel's gaze snaps up. "Your tell is _blinding_ ," she explains with a small smile. "I - I don't want her to _have_ to tell me. Not if it'll hurt her."

As lovely as the sentiment is, Rachel knows she's going to have to tell Quinn, anyway. Regardless of her reaction. Maybe she should wait for after the grand opening.

"I think the two of you should talk about it," Rachel says. "Which means I should talk to her first."

"You should also ask her about Dr Holly," Beth says. "You know, while you're having difficult conversations."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Drink your coffee."

Beth grins at her, and leans forward, elbow on the table. "So, tell me," she says; "What did you think of Thomas?"

* * *

Quinn is already in bed when Rachel gets home, which is surprising. She was supposed to be busy at the hospital, but she's tucked in their bed with her _iPad_ balanced on her stomach.

"There you are," Quinn says. "Come look at this: I'm getting us tickets to _Hamilton_. Am I the best wife or what?"

Rachel can't even bring herself to walk further into the bedroom. She just stands at the door and looks at her with all the love she constantly feels.

Quinn's smile fades when she doesn't move. "Baby?" She sets her tablet aside and starts to get out of bed. She's wearing a pair of Rachel's shorts and a Harvard sweatshirt, looking as comfortable as ever. If it weren't for the concern in her brow. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"I did something."

Quinn freezes where she is, and Rachel can only imagine what's going through her mind. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out," Quinn says, her voice steady, though her lips tremble.

"I went to see Beth," Rachel says, and Quinn's expression shifts to confusion. "I wanted to know about my father."

Quinn's frown deepens.

"We started talking about fathers, in general."

When it clicks, what she's trying to tell her, Quinn's entire body seizes up. Understanding dawns and she takes a step back. She blinks repeatedly. "You _told_ her?" Her tone holds disbelief and betrayal, and Rachel aches with her apology.

"I didn't have to," she reveals. "She already suspected. She figured it out herself. She just - "

"I can't believe this."

Rachel stands perfectly still.

Quinn looks pale as she stares right back at her. "I don't - why would - how did she take it?"

Rachel licks her lips. "As well as I expected," she says. "She's angry _for_ you, and she asked why you hadn't yet told her."

"I - "

"Honey, she knows why," Rachel says. "You wanted to protect her."

Quinn looks away. "I was going to tell her; I was."

"I know," Rachel says, stepping forward. "I'm sorry we took that away from you."

"Maybe it's better this way," she says, sighing in something like defeat. "I don't know how coherent I would have been." Her arms wrap around her own body. "She has his eyes, you know."

Rachel wants to reach out to touch her, but Quinn looks coiled so tightly that she's afraid of what'll happen if she unwinds.

"Everything else is me, except for the eyes," Quinn continues. "Sometimes, when the light catches them at a certain angle, I see - " she stops quite suddenly, looking horrified.

" _Quinn_ ," Rachel breathes, stepping forward again, but immediately halting at the involuntary step Quinn takes back. Away from her. She's taken it alarmingly better and worse than Rachel ever thought, but the last thing Rachel wanted was to take her back there. To that moment in time.

Quinn shakes her head harshly, as if she's clearing it. "I should make time to talk to her."

Rachel nods once. "You should make time to talk to her."

Quinn takes a deep, deep breath. "I'm going to get back into bed now," she says. She shakes her head again. "Maybe I should put on some pants. It's a little cold tonight."

It's a strange dynamic for them, because Quinn is usually the one holding Rachel together through all she's been through, and she doesn't know what to do to help in this moment. Quinn has it together quite spectacularly. She's basically the _adultiest_ adult Rachel has ever met.

"Why don't you get into bed and I'll get you some pants?" Rachel offers when Quinn still hasn't moved.

"Good idea," Quinn says, distracted.

Rachel watches her turn and walk to resume her position in bed. Everything feels disjointed all of a sudden, and it doesn't get any better until Rachel is also in bed, lying stiffly beside her wife, who suddenly feels so far away.

Quinn rolls onto her side, facing Rachel, and tucks her hands under her cheek. "I see him, sometimes," she whispers, essentially finishing what she didn't say earlier. "I don't mean to, and I hate myself when I do, but I can't help it, and I - I _am_ over it, you know. I've worked through it. I'm successful and happy, and my kid is happy and healthy and safe, and I never needed any of them."

Rachel listens in silence, her full attention on Quinn.

"But I see him, sometimes," she repeats. "She has his eyes."

Rachel suddenly hates that Beth has such lovely eyes. "Quinn," she says. "If you just give me a name, I can have him taken out, you know? My wife is a millionaire. I can make it look like an accident."

Quinn smiles for what must be the first time since Rachel got home. "At first, I was very interested in keeping tabs on all the people I left behind," she says. "When Beth was born, I went through... a tough time, and I was curious. And then I just wasn't anymore. I don't know. It didn't seem important, whatever was happening in their lives, because I had the most important thing in mine."

"So, basically, he could already be in jail, and we wouldn't know?"

"I'm pretty sure I would have heard about it if he was," Quinn comments. "That wouldn't be news Nadine wouldn't tell me."

"Nadine's the friend you stayed with, right?"

Quinn hums. "She's also the first girl who ever kissed me."

Rachel isn't even a little surprised by that. Everyone will fall under Quinn's spell; if they're not careful.

"Her timing was horrific, of course, and I didn't handle it well," Quinn says, sounding solemn. "We didn't speak for a good few years after I left her house. Not until I figured out I did actually like girls, and I sent her a message to apologise for the way things ended between us."

"Where is she now?"

"Charleston," she answers. "With her wife and two dogs."

" _We_ should get a dog."

Quinn laughs, and it's the most glorious sound. "We cannot possibly get a dog right now."

"You said 'right now.'"

"We'll revisit it after we've successfully got through three months at HG Memorial, okay?"

"I'm going to hold you to that," Rachel declares, relieved Quinn's little episode seems to have faded.

"Well, you could just hold me," Quinn says in response, and Rachel goes still. "It's just that you're all the way over there, and I'm over here, and it would be really nice if you could come closer."

Rachel wastes no time closing the space between them and wrapping her arms around Quinn's waist. She breathes out in relief at the same time Quinn does, thankful for the extended contact.

"I love you," Rachel tells her. "More than all those insignificant people ever could. I love you more than I ever even thought myself capable of."

Quinn buries her face in Rachel's neck. "That means the most to me," she whispers, breath hot against Rachel's skin. "My love, that means everything."

* * *

Rachel offers to go with Quinn when she makes plans to meet Beth somewhere in the city, but Quinn politely declines.

Instead, Rachel spends the afternoon with Marley. They have a lot to discuss, it seems. Marley isn't aware of Rachel's impending departure - this one, her father has managed to keep to himself - until Rachel very casually says, "I'm referring Eli to a specialist I'll be working with at HG Memorial."

Marley stops scribbling her endless notes, her head snapping up. "What?"

Rachel continues to read through Eli's patient file. "I think we'll get better results if Dr Washington takes a look at him. At this point, what we're doing is like putting on a bandage, when we need to figure out how to stop the bleeding." She grimaces at her own words. "Metaphorically, of course."

Marley makes a strained sound. "You're leaving?" Her voice is high when she asks, and Rachel finally looks at her. "You're leaving me?" Her eyes widen. "I mean, you're leaving us? _Us_."

Rachel regards her closely. "You already know, Marley, that I've been putting a lot of work into making sure this Ward runs properly when I'm gone."

"No," she counters, "you've been doing it because you want us to work independent of you."

"Exactly."

Marley looks so distraught that Rachel worries she'll actually start crying. "But - but, you can't."

"Marley."

"How am I supposed to learn from you if you're not here?" she asks.

"I - there are other doctors," Rachel points out.

"But none of them is _you_ ," Marley says, and it's almost a shriek. "You're - you're amazing at your job. So good with the littlies, and their parents, who can be horrible, you know. I'm basically sunshine in a human body, and even I lose my patience with them. And you're so talented. I - I watch your surgeries all the time, and that save on Michael Brathwaite; all the residents are still talking about it."

Rachel does not blush. Absolutely not. "Marley."

"No," she says again. "You - you can't just leave us here."

Rachel sighs. "I'm not leaving you," she says, suddenly realising she's probably going to have a version of this conversation with Jesse soon. "I'm taking a job at another hospital, in order to further my career." It's more than that, of course, but they've stuck to that response.

Marley's eyes narrow as if she knows. "If I apply for my Fellowship there, will you hire me?"

Rachel almost denies any involvement in the hiring - which is mostly true - but she knows she'll be able to make the exception for any specific doctors she wants. And she'd want Marley.

"Yes."

Marley seems to settle at the response. "Okay."

"Okay."

"Just, you know, don't do anything too groundbreaking until I get there."

* * *

Quinn's eyes are slightly puffy when she gets home, and Rachel immediately pulls her onto the couch with her, laying her head in her lap and threading fingers through her hair.

"It went well," Quinn tells her after a moment. "She cried, so of course I cried. She - she didn't ask for details, but I - I told her as much as I could. About my family. About what my life was life before her." She turns her head to look at Rachel's face. "If my baby girl wasn't the thing to make them throw me away, it would have been something else. My sexuality, maybe even my career. Something. I would have gone through all of it, anyway, but maybe in a different way. Except, now, in this life, I got Beth out of it."

Rachel leans forward to kiss her forehead.

"We talked about better communication," she says with a snort. "So, I told her that sex is overrated and pineapple is not an acceptable pizza topping."

Rachel giggles. "Quinn."

"And she told me about Thomas."

"Ah, Thomas."

"She's mentioned him to you?"

Rachel nods. "Talked about him for ten minutes without even breathing," she says. "I met him, as well. He's cute in that boy-next-door way. Beth could definitely do a lot worse, because I was dating disasters when I was her age."

Quinn shakes her head. "I reckon I have you beat there, dear."

Rachel winces, but doesn't verbally agree. "So, you two are okay?"

"I think we'll have to keep talking about it, but I think we will be," she says. "I made it clear that she can ask me questions if she wants, but I don't think she will."

"You know we'll track him down and make his life hell if you ever tell us who he is," Rachel says.

"I'm aware."

Rachel hums softly, giving Quinn an Eskimo kiss. "Have you had dinner?" she asks. "I picked up some lasagna from Cartelli's."

Quinn grins at her. "You bought me comfort food."

"I bought you comfort food."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Thank you for being everything I need."

Rachel kisses her slowly, purposefully. Kisses her with all the meaning in the world. Kisses her as if this moment will end, but also won't.

Kisses her with everything she is, and will be.

* * *

Rachel isn't sure of the procedure for leaving work and essentially moving to what may prove to be a bit of a rival hospital. Jesse grows sombre during her last few days, which is surprising but also expected. With Sam gone, she's really the only person he interacts with on a daily basis, and now she's leaving him too.

God.

It really _is_ like high school.

Rachel holds one last meeting for her Paediatric Department, informing them of her departure and thanking them for all their hard work. She wishes them well, reminds them not to be strangers, and invites them to stop by the new hospital if ever they have time.

Some of them knew Henry, so they know just what he meant to her.

They _know_.

Jesse knows, too, but he pretends to be more affronted by her departure than he really is. She can tell he's not happy, but they both know she can't stay. Not when she has the opportunity to do such good work alongside her wife. What kind of idiot would she be to pass up such a thing?

"Maybe your father really will fire me?" Jesse comments.

"Please don't actually do something to give him the excuse," Rachel warns, because she can't realistically say there will be a huge demand for additional plastic surgeons in a children's hospital. She's aware of the structure of the Henry Garcia Memorial Hospital for Children, but she doesn't yet know if all the positions have been filled.

She's going to be in charge of the general surgical department, leading a team of surgeons in innovation and general procedures. It's a bit of a daunting prospect, but she's looking forward to all the work they're going to be able to do.

All the children they'll get to save.

All the difference they're going to make.

All the lives they'll change.

"I mean, I basically called him an egotistical hypocrite to his face, so I don't know what more I could do," Jesse says, drawing her attention once more. They're having one of their last lunches together in the cafeteria, and she can't help thinking about the things she'll miss.

Definitely not the food, though.

Rachel pushes away her tray and looks at Jesse. "You should probably know that he knows I know about Shelby."

Jesse stares at her. "And I'm still here," he says. "Wow, he must really love the money I pull in."

Rachel gives him a very particular _I told you so_ look, and he rolls her eyes. She sighs. "How have things been since, though?"

Jesse shrugs. "Fine," he says. "LeRoy and I don't interact, and I stay as far away from Blaine as physically possible."

Rachel winces, because Blaine is probably another person she should bid farewell to. Santana? That seems unnecessary, seeing as she'll probably see her at the grand opening, anyway. Best friends supporting best friends and all that. Mercedes, maybe.

Jesse sighs. "I just - I don't think I'll enjoy my time here with all of you gone," he says. "And, I'll deny it if you tell her, but I also miss _Quinn_." He groans. "I don't think I ever even talked to her when she worked here, but she made for an interesting time."

"Imagine living with her."

Jesse glares at her. "Are you about to boast about your sex life again, because I'm sick of hearing about it?"

"You say that, but we both know it's not true," she says, poking his arm. "And, I know directly from the source that you and Sam are talking again."

Jesse goes red right before her eyes. "Talking," he echoes. "We're just _talking_."

"That's more than you were doing a week ago."

"You've spoken to him?"

"He comes by, sometimes," she informs him. "To see Quinn, mainly about work, but we've had dinner a few times. He's nice company. I didn't get to know him before, but, yeah, I can see why you like him."

If possible, Jesse's blush intensifies. "You talked to him about me, didn't you?"

"Briefly," she admits. "I can't speak for Quinn, though, because they might have as well."

"If I manage to get everything sorted out, are you going to make us go on a double date?" he asks.

She grins at him. "Answer that yourself."

He laughs, shaking his head. "I'm going to miss you."

She's not going to get emotional, because it's not as if they won't ever see each other. It'll just have to be planned properly from now on. "I may or may not miss you."

"You better not make a better friend than me."

"You know we're one of a kind, St James," she assures him. "You're the only ex-husband for me."

"We should start a band," he jokes.

And, well, Rachel takes him seriously. "We should."

* * *

"Jesse and I are starting a band."

Quinn glances up from her laptop screen, glasses perched on her nose and tongue poking between her teeth. "What?"

Rachel's words were initially blurted, pouring out of her at the sight of Quinn Fabray looking so deliciously sexy. It's honestly not fair that she can look that good just sitting there and working.

"Baby?"

"Jesse and I," she says, stepping closer; "we've decided to start a band."

Quinn blinks. "A band?"

"A music band," Rachel clarifies, almost unnecessarily. "With instruments and singing."

Quinn's head tilts a little to the side as she processes the words. "Okay," she finally says.

"Okay?"

Quinn smiles. "Whatever makes you happy, my love."

Rachel can barely contain her affection, and she drifts closer to where Quinn is seated at the kitchen table. While they have a shared home office, Quinn claims she prefers the kitchen table in the evenings. "What are you doing?"

"Finalising the program for our big day," she says. "I meant to ask if you wanted to say a few words."

She frowns. "About what?"

"Henry."

Her breath catches, and Quinn watches her closely. "I - I don't even know what I would say."

"Sure you do."

And, well, Rachel supposes she actually does. She just doesn't trust herself to be able to get the words out without breaking down in front of every person in attendance.

"Think about it," Quinn says. "Tell me tomorrow." She shifts back slightly and turns her body, presenting her legs. She very purposefully pats her lap in invitation, and Rachel gets out one laugh before she's crossing the room to take up her preferred position.

Arms around Quinn's neck, Rachel says, "Hi," very quietly.

"Hey."

"Jesse and I are starting a band."

Quinn smiles patiently. "You said so," she says. "And you just decided it."

"I think he just wanted us to have an actual reason to hang out," she says. "I think he's really bummed about all of us leaving."

Quinn hums in understanding. "I get that," she says. "Santana's still sour about it."

"She didn't consider joining you?"

Quinn shakes her head. "Somebody has to make sure your father doesn't actually self-destruct."

Rachel gives her a look. "It's because of Dani, isn't it?"

Quinn chuckles. "She'll never admit it," she teases. "I think, if I can get Dani to do her Fellowship in Foetal Medicine with us, then maybe we'll have a chance."

"People travel far and wide for her," Rachel says. "If you can get her to agree, that'll be massive for the Heart Centre."

Quinn hums in agreement. "Look at you making sense."

"It's been known to happen."

Quinn kisses her cheek. "You always make sense."

"Now, we both know that's a lie."

"Stop speaking ill of my wife," Quinn says, feigning irritation. "She's the most sensible person I know." The grin of mischief is on full display. "I mean, she married me."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Seems like she's a bit of an idiot to me."

"There you go again talking shit about the love of my life."

Rachel can't possibly resist kissing her right now. That smile is too inviting, and she just has to taste it. She prays, hopes and wishes there's never another day she has to go without getting to be this close to Quinn. That life wouldn't be worth living.

When they break apart, Quinn looks a little dazed. "Baby," she murmurs. "Please don't start something you have no intention of finishing."

"Who said anything about not finishing?" Rachel asks, intentionally making her voice dip low with obvious suggestion.

Quinn's grip tightens on her waist. "Baby."

"Take me to bed."

Quinn looks to the ceiling. "You have terrible timing, did you know that?"

"Please don't tell me Sam is on his way over again," she grumbles.

"No."

"Santana?"

"No."

"Beth?"

Quinn shakes her head. "I ordered dinner."

"So?"

"I'm not answering the door in my robe again," she grumbles. "I've already given Chuck one free-show."

Rachel beams at her, easily recognising the name of their usual delivery guy from one of Rachel's favourite Greek restaurants. "You ordered gyros."

"I got home with the intention of cooking, but - yeah, I'm kind of exhausted."

Rachel runs her hands over Quinn's hair. "You have been working so hard. You deserve a good rest."

"I'll sleep when the hospital is officially open and everything is functioning as it's supposed to be."

"So, basically, never?"

Quinn gasps. "You take that back."

Rachel laughs, nosing at Quinn's cheek. "You do know it's never going to be perfect, right?"

"Doesn't mean we shouldn't try."

"No, it doesn't," she agrees, hugging Quinn close. "It's happening," she whispers in Quinn's ear. "I mean, I always knew it would, but this feels - it's really happening."

"No regrets?" Quinn asks.

"None at all."

* * *

Quinn answers the door in her robe, and Rachel laughs for a solid minute when she hears Chuck say, "Lookin' good, Doc."

For Rachel's troubles, Quinn makes her get up off the couch to get her own food, looking severely unimpressed.

Rachel just kisses her cheek. "You're cute," she murmurs. "I'll make it up to you later."

Quinn holds her expression for another beat, and then she grins at her. "I shall consider it," she says, and then starts unpacking their food. It's too much for just dinner tonight, and Rachel appreciates they'll have leftovers for lunch.

It's when they're settled and comfortable back on the couch and enjoying a rare evening of no additional work that Rachel surprises them both when she asks, "Quinn, who is Dr Holly?"

Quinn's hands freeze on the way up to her mouth, her eyes a little wide. "Dr Holly?"

"Beth mentioned her," Rachel says, trying not to feel equally thrown by Quinn's reaction to the name. "Said she was the doctor who eventually saved her."

Quinn sets her gyro back on her plate and sighs. "I found her by accident," she says. "She wasn't what you would call a conventional doctor, in the sense that her treatment plans were usually quite _out there_. But I was desperate for anything that could save Beth. I just - I needed someone to try."

There's something in her voice; something almost begging Rachel to understand.

"I invited her to consult without telling any of Beth's other doctors," Quinn says. "I mean, they weren't willing to try, so I found someone who would, and I - she said she would do it, so I let her." Her expression stills. "I just - I let this woman I barely knew cut into my baby girl because - because I couldn't stand the thought of her dying, and - "

"She survived," Rachel says, as if Quinn needs the reminder.

Quinn shakes her head. "She wasn't meant to, you know," she says. "They all wrote her off. Like, her tumour regrew, and it should have been the end, and I've always been so terrified it'll come back."

Rachel can't realistically tell her it won't, because they can't know that. But it's been more than five years of remission, which means something. It's almost enough to consider Beth cured from an incurable disease.

"Holly put these, at the time, experimental radiation balls at the site of the resected tumour," Quinn explains, almost at a monotone. "They weren't FDA-approved. She lost her license when they found out what she'd done."

Rachel's surprise must show on her face, and Quinn looks away.

"Holly said she didn't regret it," Quinn says. "Said she would do it all over again; that she wouldn't want to have disappointed Marcella and me, and I - God, I felt - like, Beth was alive, but this woman who was willing to do everything she could to save our kid lost her medical career over it, and I was guilty but relieved, and - " she stops. "I think it hit Marcella worse, because - "

"Beth mentioned there was... something there."

"There definitely could have been," Quinn admits. "Sometimes, I want to track Holly down and see what she's up to, but I don't know if it's fair of us to go looking for her."

"Maybe you should, anyway," Rachel says. "Just to settle your own curiosity."

"What if we really ruined her life?"

"And what if you didn't?"

Quinn leans back, her expression troubled. "Beth doesn't remember much, does she?"

"Just the name, as far as she told me," Rachel answers. "And that she could have become her stepmother."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "I wonder what she'd think of us now."

Rachel reaches out to touch her, hand light on her thigh. "I think she'd be pleased with everything you've accomplished," she says and, while she doesn't know this Holly person, it's impossible for her words not to be true.

Quinn glances at her. "You really think so?"

Rachel leans over to kiss her cheek, gentle and lingering. "I know so," she murmurs, so certain. There are few things she's sure of, but they all relate to this woman she gets to call her wife. "Everyone should be."

* * *

Rachel officially leaves work at New Budapest Hospital on a Tuesday, and gets little to no sleep between that time and Saturday morning: the day they reveal all their hard work to the world.

They've technically been softly open for a few days by the time the event is held, doctors coming and going and Rachel meeting and getting to know some of the professionals working around her.

She sees very little of Quinn during those days, her wife either holed up in her office at the hospital, working from her office at the Spencer Foundation Headquarters or actually asleep in their bed. Rachel can't be sure when she even eats, but they both have very important days coming up, so Rachel will worry about it later. As long as they're still having sex, she doesn't have a lot to be concerned about when it comes to Quinn.

The days go both quickly and slowly, bleeding into one long period of time where it feels like everything and nothing is happening all at the same time.

Quinn might not be physically talking to her all that much, but she texts every few hours with questions and observations about the day-to-day of the hospital as she views it.

Rachel always texts back as soon as she's able to, wanting to give Quinn something to keep her grounded and focused and _here_. It's a bit strange, knowing she and Quinn are now in the same hospital again, and that she can go to the third floor and actually _see_ Quinn in her office.

She resists, though, because she knows how busy Quinn is. On top of preparing for the grand opening, Quinn essentially has two full-time jobs. She's still the Head of Operations of the Medical Branch of the Spencer Foundation, as well as an incoming paediatric trauma and general surgeon at the hospital.

Rachel smiles at the thought that Quinn fits into the hierarchy of her department, working under her on the daily. The idea is amusing to them both, but Rachel knows they _can_ work well together when they want to. They've proven it in the past. Quinn is as interested in taking on medicine as much as she is.

Quinn wants to save them all, and they're going to help each other do it.

* * *

On Saturday morning, Rachel wakes before Quinn and spends a few minutes just watching her wife sleep. The fact she's managed to catch a few hours at all is a miracle in itself, and Rachel admires her until even she starts to feel creepy.

She can't resist pressing a kiss to Quinn's cheek before she climbs out of bed and proceeds to get ready for this very big, very important day.

Rachel has had her outfit picked out for a week, and she takes her time in the shower, eventually squeaking in surprise when Quinn joins her. She looks soft and perfect, hair messy from sleep, and Rachel reaches out for her immediately, drawing her under the hot spray with her.

When Quinn kisses her, it's tender. She touches her like she's something precious; makes love to her in a way that leaves marks on her soul rather than her body. It's never felt this way before, and it seems like both a start and an end.

They waste far too much water, but the pleasure is almost worth it.

Quinn generally gets dressed quicker than Rachel does, but this morning is different. She does everything slowly, purposefully, as if everything she puts on her body is going to define how the rest of the day goes.

Quinn eventually decides on a dark blue dress, a light dusting of makeup and matching heels that make her look devastating. Rachel stares at her for far too long when she finally emerges from their bedroom and, if Quinn notices, she doesn't mention it.

They have a small breakfast, which is just a smoothie, and then they head out for what could be the most important day of their lives so far. Quinn doesn't look nervous at first glance, but Rachel knows her well enough to see her nerves in the restless tips of her fingers and the way she hasn't once stopped touching Rachel since they left their place.

Being whom they are, Rachel almost expects disaster to hit at some point, but the entire ceremony goes off without a hitch. Exactly as planned and running on time.

They all gather in the main lobby, Quinn, Anne, Cassandra and Rachel standing closest to the large red ribbon and surrounded by an audience of almost eighty people.

Behind them is the memorial Quinn designed for Henry. It has a plaque, briefly explaining who he was to them and all he managed to become in his short life. They already knew they were going to have to answer endless questions about where the name of the hospital came from, so it made the most sense to memorialise him this way.

Anne speaks first, as the head of the Spencer Foundation, and then Cassandra says words about the vision the hospital has to be a pioneer in children's medicine. Quinn just invites Rachel to speak, standing behind her with the large scissors meant to cut the ribbon in her hands.

Cameras flash as she steps forward and says, "The first thing I ever learned about Henry was that his favourite colour was blue. Not like the ocean, but like the sky. He told me he wanted to touch it, one day. All he wanted was to touch the sky, and I like to think that's exactly what he's doing right now.

"It's comforting thinking of him up there, among the angels, watching us proudly embarrass him with just how much we miss him and his toothless smile." She glances somewhere to the left, where Henry's parents stand together, tears in their eyes. "Despite that, I do like to think he would be proud of us, and what we've done." She feels Quinn's hand flat on the small of her back, and her head tilts up to look at the ceiling.

At the sky.

A camera flashes again, and it's the picture that will be used in all the newspapers that publish articles about the grand opening of the hospital. Quinn just at her side, and Henry blanketing them.

Rachel finishes by saying, "Happy birthday, sweet boy," and then the small reception that follows the cutting of the ribbon is filled with an endless number of reporters and fellow doctors. It's really a rotating door of people that she needs to speak to. Quinn is sometimes at her side, but more often locked in some conversation with their donors and other members of the board.

By no means does Rachel think their fundraising is over - Quinn explained it would likely be a constant thing - so it's important for them to show their investors just where all their money has gone. Quinn is so stupidly charming like this, and Rachel finds her gaze drifting towards her, even when she's meant to be talking to other people.

If they notice, nobody makes mention of it. They're maybe amused by it all, but Rachel doesn't quite care. Her wife is fascinating, and she wonders for what won't be the first time how she's supposed to work with her every day.

Well.

That's tomorrow's problem.

Today, the one thing demanding her attention is successful.

Today is the start of something big and important and life-changing.

Today, everything good is happening.

They've made it so.

* * *

The first month at Henry Garcia Memorial goes so quickly that Rachel barely registers its passing.

They host Thanksgiving for the first time in their home, with Quinn and Beth doing most of the cooking. There's a turkey and stuffing and cranberry sauce and constant, never-ending teasing.

Beth says, "I think I get it now," when she sees Quinn tug Rachel into her lap and kiss her senseless as she sits in an armchair. They break apart at the sound of her words, both of them feeling giddy with the holiday. Rachel's a little drunk, and Quinn's cheeks are flushed from the two glasses of wine she's consumed.

"Get what?" Quinn asks, smiling when Rachel wipes her mouth with her fingers. She makes a point of kissing the pads of those fingers.

"Never wanting your person too far away from you," Beth says.

Quinn looks at Rachel, and then at Beth again. Her smile turns into a dangerous, intoxicating smirk. "She's talking about Thomas."

Beth blushes. "No, I'm not," she squeaks; "it's just - "

Rachel laughs. "She's _totally_ talking about Thomas."

Beth shakes her head. "All I'm saying is that I get it," she huffs and rolls her eyes at their matching grins. " _Whatever_."

Quinn's arms wrap around Rachel's waist, bringing her closer to her chest. "You know what this means, don't you?" she says to Beth. "I'm going to tease you endlessly. God, it's going to be epic."

Beth just glares at them, and then disappears into the kitchen with the sound of their laughter at her back.

Rachel leans back against Quinn, relaxing against her body and sighing contently. Her hands settle over Quinn's on her abdomen, fingers interlocking. It feels wonderful just holding her there, in a way that makes her wish for things.

Wish for something - someone - under their palms.

Rachel turns her head, resting her forehead against Quinn's cheek. "Quinn?" she whispers.

"Hmm?"

"I think I'm ready," she says, her eyes closing.

"For what?"

Rachel squeezes Quinn's fingers, pressing their hands down against her stomach. Her womb.

Quinn gets it a beat later, and Rachel feels her stiffen beneath her. "My love?" she asks, her voice hesitant. Daring to hope. "Are you - God, are you sure?"

Rachel kisses her cheek. "Maybe we can wait for the new year to make any proper plans," she offers; "but, yes, I'm sure." She noses at Quinn's cheek, sighing happily. "I'm ready whenever you are."

Quinn kisses her lips this time, her right hand sliding up Rachel's front, along her neck until she cups Rachel's cheek. "I love you," she murmurs. "I love you, I love you."

Rachel knows they probably would have done something they really shouldn't when there are people in their home, but they hear Beth's laughter and break apart.

"Later," Quinn whispers, her voice full of promise; "we'll get started later."

* * *

They're halfway through December when a blonde woman knocks on Rachel's open office door and pokes her head in. She frowns, and Rachel frowns at her frown.

"You're not Doctor Fabray," the woman says.

Rachel blinks stupidly. "Um." She glances down at the name embroidered on her lab coat just to make sure it says what she's sure it says. "I'm definitely Dr Fabray," she says.

"Oh." She woman's frown deepens. "Is there another one?"

Rachel's head tilts to the left, taking in this woman and whom she might be. "You're looking for Quinn," she states.

"I am," she says with a nod. "I asked for Dr Fabray at the front desk, and they directed me here."

Rachel hums, waving her inside. "She's not actually in today," she says. "Quinn spends Tuesday mornings at the Spencer Foundation. Maybe I can help?"

"Oh," she says, stepping further into her office. "Are you - you're also a Fabray. Any relation?"

"Quinn is my wife," Rachel says, and she still gets a particular thrill every time she gets to say those words out loud.

The woman's face shifts from surprise to delight, and Rachel doesn't know what to make of it. "Wow," she says. "God, that is amazing. Hi, wow, it's lovely to meet you."

Rachel slowly gets to her feet. "I - um, are you - "

The woman seems to realise Rachel has no idea whom she is, and she laughs softly. "I'm Holly," she finally says, holding out her hand. "Holly Holliday."

Recognition hits and Rachel smiles widely. "Dr Holly," she exclaims, immediately shaking the woman's hand.

"Just Holly," she automatically corrects, and Rachel winces. "It's all right," she says with a smile. "I bet you're wondering what I'm doing here."

"Quinn contacted you," she says.

"She did," Holly says.

Rachel smiles to herself, and then invites Holly to sit. "I'm Rachel, by the way," she says as she returns to her own desk chair. "I'm going to text Quinn to come straight here when she gets in. It shouldn't be too long."

"Oh, don't rush her," Holly says. "I don't mind waiting." She looks panicked for a moment. "I'm not keeping you from anything, am I?"

Rachel glances at her daily schedule for a beat. "Not at the moment, no," she says. "Just a consult in a couple of hours."

Holly nods thoughtfully. "I wasn't meant to come by," she says. "But I stay in Jersey, and I just felt compelled to come and see her. If that makes sense."

"It makes sense," Rachel tells her. "I suspect it was a surprise to hear from her."

"It was," Holly agrees with a smile. "I assume it had something to do with you."

Rachel looks away for a moment. "She sent the email," she says. "I just let her know it was okay to do so."

"Well, thank you," Holly says. "It was good and unexpected, but yeah." She looks at her hands, fiddling with the rings. "A lot of life has happened between then and now."

Rachel has her own questions, but she holds onto them until Quinn arrives.

Quinn, who comes practically skipping into Rachel's office an hour later. She's already speaking as she steps through the front door, saying, "Baby, I think we should get Beth an _iMac_ for Christmas. The little brat won't stop bringing it up every time we talk."

"Quinn," Rachel says, getting to her feet. "We have a visitor."

It's kind of a beautiful thing watching their reunion. It's a little awkward at first, but then Holly cries, which makes sympathetic-crier Quinn Fabray also cry. Rachel orders lunch for them while they catch up, and she watches them with all the affection she feels in this moment.

Holly explains that she moved to Jersey shortly after her medical licence hearing. She started working in a school as a nurse and substitute teacher. She met a woman, whom she married on a Wednesday. She says it with a smile, and then rolls her eyes when she adds, "Unfortunately, it didn't work out."

Quinn can't help her own smile. "So, you're single?"

Holly reads her expression for what it is. "Oh, no, don't you start."

"Funny you should say that," Quinn says, ignoring her; "so is Marcella."

The sound of the name has its desired affect, and Holly's expression shifts from surprise to indecision to something impassive with a hint of hope she desperately tries to hide. "Quinn," she says, shaking her head.

"Holly."

"Quinn."

"Holly."

Holly looks at Rachel, silently pleading for help.

Rachel just winks, and then says, "What are you doing for Christmas?"

Holly huffs in amusement, but Rachel has her gaze on only Quinn, whose own eyes are twinkling with mischief. Quinn winks at her after a moment, and Rachel can read it for what it is.

 _Well, Lucy Quinn Fabray, I'm immensely glad I married you, too_.

* * *

Rachel turns thirty-five on a Monday.

Quinn makes a comment about giving her thirty-five orgasms throughout the day, and Rachel thinks she's joking until she wakes with Quinn's head between her legs.

Three in their bed and two in the shower, one in the kitchen and one against their front door before they leave for work. It kind of makes her feel incredibly old by the time they get to the hospital because, if Quinn is actually being serious, that's still twenty-eight more to go and she's not sure her body could handle that much pleasure in one day.

It's also surprising that they actually haven't yet had sex in either of their offices. Which is an oversight Quinn rectifies - and then some - by the time noon rolls around.

They're at twenty more to go by the time Quinn brings her Tom Yum soup for lunch in her office, and Rachel tells her in no uncertain terms, "You are not allowed to touch me until we get home."

Quinn just grins saucily and says nothing in response.

Rachel really should know better, though, because her wife is all mischief when it comes to defying her _and_ giving her pleasure. Quinn's libido and sexual prowess is something to behold on most days, and all she really has to say on this day is, "Imagine, there could be three of us this time next year," and Rachel hits sixteen without Quinn even having to touch her.

Hiram calls in the early afternoon and they talk for fifteen minutes, mainly about work and what their plans are for the holidays. Hiram is seeing someone new, and they have tentative plans to go on a cruise together. Rachel hates that there's a part of her that's relieved.

LeRoy sends an email at four o'clock, and she appreciates the limited contact, given everything. Then, when she's getting ready to leave for an early dinner with Quinn, Beth, Marcella, Sam and Jesse; she gets a call from Shelby.

For a moment, she considers not answering, but she's been meaning to call the woman for a while. She has some time to kill before Quinn comes to fetch her, anyway, so she settles back into her chair and answers Shelby's call.

Apparently, she's in New York for the holidays, and she would really like to see Rachel.

Rachel doesn't invite her to her birthday dinner, even if she considers it. Instead, they make plans for later in the week, and Rachel hesitates before telling Quinn she wants her to meet Shelby with her when Quinn eventually shows up at her office.

Quinn immediately agrees, as if there was no other option, and then shoves Rachel onto her couch before dropping to her knees for _one more_.

Beth doesn't even bother with her teasing when she sees them, which is a feat in itself, because Quinn looks like a smug little shit as they settle at their reserved table. Her hand immediately lands on Rachel's leg under the table, and Rachel decides in the moment that she'll murder her own wife if that hand goes anywhere untoward.

Quinn, at least, behaves herself at the dinner table, even if she does steal her away between their main meal and dessert. To the bathroom, where she locks them in a stall and needs only four minutes to get Rachel off for the eighteenth time in the day.

"God, I have so many plans for you," Quinn promises in a breathy whisper, and Rachel can't tell if she's ready to leave the restaurant right away or stay as long as possible.

Jesse makes an embarrassing toast and she has to kick his shin under the table when he starts mentioning her incoming grey hair like it's inevitable. She's horrified the few strands are already visible.

It does also get her thinking, though, because she and Quinn _are_ getting old. It's one of those things about life, she knows, and the realisation that she gets to grow old with Quinn is _everything_.

* * *

It's later, when she and Quinn are tucked away at home, inexplicably on their way to reaching Quinn's goal of thirty-five, that Rachel very quietly says, "I'm happy."

Quinn is half asleep - though she claims just to be 'recharging' - so all she does is hum in acknowledgment she's heard Rachel.

"I wasn't always," Rachel says, rolling onto her side and propping her head up on one elbow. "Maybe I've never been before now, who knows?" Her free hand lifts to trail her fingers over Quinn's bare sternum. She can feel Quinn's heart beating a little faster than usual under her skin and bone.

Quinn turns her head, her eyes blinking open. "Did you just realise today?"

"I think I've known for a while, but my consciousness just figured it out this afternoon," she says. "I don't know; talking on the phone with Shelby, I didn't have that usual need to... explain or even validate myself in her eyes. Like, all along, I used my medical career as something that kept us apart; something that made us different."

"And now?"

"Now, my career has nothing to do with my biological mother, or either of my fathers," she says. "It doesn't even feel like the thing that connects me to you, anymore." Her fingers pause over the pulse point in Quinn's neck. "Every day, I get to do what I love - and, yes, that includes you, you insatiable woman - but I - I guess, for the first time in forever, it feels like mine. My career, my life, all my choices. They're all mine, and this is where I ended up, and I'm just so happy."

"Baby, are you just saying all this because you've had thirty orgasms today?"

Rachel really doesn't have the heart to tell her it's actually twenty-nine, because she's quite certain Quinn is actually starting to cramp. She does cup Quinn's cheek and lean in to press a kiss to her smiling lips. "I'm saying all this because my life feels settled and worthy in all aspects for the first time in my memory, and this is something you've given me."

Quinn shakes her head, laughing softly. "All I've given you is myself," she says.

"Exactly."

Quinn's smile seems to freeze on her face. "Oh." She blinks several times. "Are you about to say things that'll make me cry?"

"I thought you were a sympathetic crier?"

"But you're going to end up crying first, anyway," Quinn points out, which is definitely true.

Rachel pinches her cheek. "I'm not going to cry," she says. "I _am_ going to tell you that I'm happy, and it might not be because of you in the traditional sense, but it's this person you are that's allowed me to be happy in all the other parts of my life."

"I can see tears in your eyes."

Rachel sighs, because her wife is so silly. "Quinn."

"My love?"

"Thank you."

Quinn looks to the ceiling, a slight crease in her forehead. "You make it sound as if I did a completely selfless thing," she says, and Rachel recalls her own words in relation to this very topic. Loving Quinn is the most selfish thing she's ever done, and it seems Quinn feels the same. "Loving you isn't some chore for me. I'm not with you because I looked at you and decided I wanted to fix you."

"I know."

Quinn hums. "Okay."

"Thank you, anyway."

Quinn snorts, only half-annoyed. "You can thank me in an hour," she says.

"What's happening in an hour?"

"Thirty-five."

"Definitely keep reminding me how old I am," she mutters, as she lies back against their sheets.

"Baby, you're not old," Quinn says, lifting herself up and rolling onto Rachel, their bodies sliding together deliciously. "I promise nothing is sagging yet."

Rachel pinches her ear, which makes her yelp. "Keep that up and I'm closing up shop."

"You wouldn't," she counters immediately, nosing at Rachel's cheek.

"I would," Rachel says, and then contradicts herself by spreading her legs to accommodate Quinn's hips more comfortably. "But, instead, we could just stay like this for forever."

"As lovely as that sounds, I'm not used to failing," Quinn says, looking visibly conflicted.

"There's always next year."

"Baby, if we can't even get to thirty-five when it's just the two of us; what makes you think we could reach thirty-six?"

"There you go again, just pointing out my age," she says with a pout. "We'll plan it better."

Quinn shifts her hips. "Just five more," she murmurs. "Are you tired?"

"I'm exhausted."

Quinn laughs. "Is that why you keep trying to get me to cry?"

"All I'm doing is reiterating how much I love you and just how you've changed my life," she says, fingers threading through Quinn's loose hair.

"You keep repeating your vows."

"Would you like me to stop?"

"By all means, tell me how much you love me at every opportunity," Quinn says, shifting again, a small smirk on her face.

"Do you have any idea what you mean to me?"

Quinn turns her head, pulling back a little to be able to meet Rachel's gaze. The answer is there in her eyes, Rachel already knows, but Quinn still does her a favour and asks, "What do I mean to you?"

Rachel gently tugs her head down, pressing their lips together for a moment. "You mean the world to me," she whispers. "Quinn Fabray, you mean everything."

* * *

_Fin_


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